


Lux Aeterna

by thatpeculiarone



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dean/Cas Mini-Bang Challenge 2019, Friends to Lovers, Ghost Castiel (Supernatural), Ghost Whisperer!Dean, M/M, Professor Dean Winchester, Spells & Enchantments, roman gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 03:19:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19844491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatpeculiarone/pseuds/thatpeculiarone
Summary: Growing up Dean’s life was completely normal.Oh… apart from the fact that he can see ghosts.Dean has known Cas for 26 years, since he was just four years old. What started out as a platonic relationship, with Cas being Dean’s friendly neighbourhood “mentor ghost”, began to evolve when Dean entered college and he realised he was in love with the ghost that haunted him.Problem? Cas still sees Dean as the four year old who had always been able to see him. And when Dean finally confesses his feelings, Cas is unable to reciprocate them.After a stir in the spiritual world causes ghosts to go missing, Cas and Dean begin to work the case to try and solve the mystery occurrence. As they work together, Dean does his best to change Cas’ perspective of him. To make Cas see him for the adult he is, and not the little boy he once knew.However, will he be able to get Cas to give him a chance or will the strange force take Cas before it’s too late?





	1. Incipit Prologus

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, thank you so much for clicking on my story!
> 
> First off, I can't begin this without a big shout out to the wonderful artist for this story, [hitori-alouette](https://hitori-alouette.tumblr.com). Thank you for being so patient with me during one of the busiest times in my life and thank you for your amazing art! It's beautiful and perfect for this story. For the art masterpost, see here!
> 
> Secondly, I wanted to issue a warning before reading. There is an age difference between Cas and Dean (considering Cas died as an adult and has known Dean since he was four). However, the romantic relationship between them happens in adulthood and Cas' perspective of change from seeing Dean as a child to seeing him as a friend/adult is explored in the fic. just to clear that up.
> 
> Finally, a huge massive thank you to [Darmys](https://darmysasagiri.tumblr.com)  
>  for helping me come up with the idea and plot. And thank you to the mods of the Dean Cas Mini Bang challenge for all your hard work and support!!
> 
> _The title of this story is based on the song[Lux Aeterna](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbS-Zhz31CA)  
> . In Latin, this means Eternal Light. This song is hauntingly beautiful and one of my favourite pieces of music ever. Highly recommend listening before reading_

**__ **

**_incipit prologus  
_ ** **Prologue**

Growing up, Dean Winchester led a completely normal life. He was a small city boy, living in the All-American nuclear family. He had two devoted parents and an irritating little brother. He earnt straight A’s, was on the varsity football team, popular among everyone in his cohort. Dean graduated college with honours and eventually found himself as a professor there. Dean had a good life--an average, mainstream life.

Oh. Except for the fact he could see ghosts.

From a young age, he was able to see all sorts of ghosts. Big ghosts, small ghosts. Angry ghosts, sad ghosts. Scary ghosts, nice ghosts. They came in an assortment of varied personalities that Dean had the burden of interacting with. And if it wasn’t for one particular ghost, one who’d stood by him since the dawn of time, Dean probably would’ve found a way to get rid of his curse.

Cas—just Cas—was the first ghost Dean had been able to see. He’d been four at the time, a small boy with a large imagination. He’d met Cas in his backyard, by the swing set. He remembered when the older man had appeared before him, with a raggedy beard and his body covered head to toe in dirt. He greeted Dean with a small smile, blue eyes glittering in the afternoon sun. Dean had asked who he was, to which he had responded; ‘Cas’. And as all the books say, the rest was history.

Dean had brought up the subject of Cas many times to his parents over the course of a year and each time, it worried them more and more. While many child psychologists convinced them that Cas was just an imaginary friend, Dean knew in his heart that Cas was _real_ . Just like all the other strange people were, the ones he met out on the street. From the woman with the sunken eyes or the man with the black top hat. Dean was convinced these people existed but wasn’t sure why _he_ was the only one who could see them.

By the age of six, he had stopped bringing them up to his parents and attempted to ignore them—Cas especially. He’d never conversed with the older man, not since he’d told Dean his name. Yet he was always there, quiet and in the background—a comforting presence.

He didn’t speak until Dean was almost seven. It was during Dean’s fifth viewing of Toy Story, when Cas made a comment about Buzz Lightyear being ‘a dumbass.’ Dean had giggled and Cas had turned his gaze to him, surprised. Dean realised that Cas was funny and found himself chatting to him throughout the course of the movie, out of his mother’s earshot.

It was even funnier when his parents had been shocked by the new word in his vocabulary and had no idea where he’d discovered it.

Cas ended up being a good friend to Dean as he grew up. He’d help Dean with his homework, keep Dean company in class, make nasty comments about the boys who picked on him in seventh grade, just to see Dean smile. As he got to high school, Cas became a sort of mentor, a guide. He helped Dean ace his history final and helped him ask a girl out on a date. He gave Dean smooth pick-up lines (even though some were seriously outdated) and helped him recover from his first hangover. And when Dean went on to college and beyond, Cas was with him every step of the way.

Having a ghost as a best friend has its perks: 1, they’re always there to lend a hand. 2, they have life experience that can tend to be quite helpful and 3, they have useful skills (such as sneaking is into classrooms and finding test answers). Plus, they have no one to tell your secrets to. However, there are some downsides that Dean discovered. 1, There was no privacy. Dean found himself multiple times begging Cas to leave the room so that he could just have an _hour_ to himself. 2, No one else can see them. Dean was never able to tell all the funny stories that Cas told him, as no one knew who he was. 3, the worst part, was that Dean was unable to touch him. While Cas looked as real as an alive human to Dean, he wasn’t able to hug him or punch him when he was being a dick. It could be shit sometimes, having Cas around.

Dean used to tell himself that it could be worse. He thought about those who existed that were like him, whose loved ones died and still hung around as spirits. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a significant other who died and not to be able to touch them, to hold them, to kiss them. He used those thoughts to remind himself how lucky he was, that he had it easy compared to some.

That was until the day he figured out he was in love with Cas.

That day, his life got a lot harder.


	2. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' views do not reflect my own in the slightest and were taken from not so nice comments on the internet.

**I  
** **_one._ **

_I really need to call maintenance again._ Dean thought as the heater in his office began to rattle and groan for the hundredth time that month. He looked over at it, the rusted ancient thing that had been in that office for at least the past few decades. It was worn out, tired from its many years of use and was beginning to fall apart. Dean had contacted maintenance about getting it fixed but it’d been a few weeks and still nothing. Dean was lucky that it was starting to warm up now it was spring, he had no idea how he would’ve survived without a heater during the winter months.

He looked away from the heater to go back to his marking, but a sudden movement caught his eye. He slyly looked up and over in the direction of his best friend, who was slumped in a chair. Cas’ head was tilted down towards his chest, his shaggy hair falling so that it hid part of his face. His brown combat boot covered feet, rested on the sill of the only window in Dean’s office. Dean use to have things sit on that sill—books, plants, little knickknacks he’d picked up here and there—until Cas kept knocking them off. After a while, Dean ultimately gave up.

Dean couldn’t help but stare at Cas, the spirit’s eyes closed so he couldn’t see him doing so. He noticed the way the soft light from the clouded sun reflected on his friend’s cheek and the way his chest moved up and down as he breathed. Except he wasn’t breathing, not really. Dean always found it peculiar how humanistic ghosts were, as if they actually were living humans. He knew they weren’t, they were ethereal beings—the spirits of the living. They didn’t have a heartbeat, didn’t need to breathe. You couldn’t touch them, couldn’t feel the warmth of their skin. Dean knew this all too well, having grown up with one always beside him. Yet, sometimes he couldn’t help but notice how they still seemed to be _people_ in a way—still had the habits and features of their former selves who died long ago.

“I can see you staring at me, you know.” Cas’ voice broke Dean from his trance. He looked to see his friend’s blue eyes staring at him, a small smirk on his face.

“Sorry… I’m thinking. Marking gets boring, you know?” Dean replied, trying to pretend like he hadn’t been admiring the spirit’s face. Cas just continued to smirk.

“Sure, kid.”

And with that, he closed his eyes again.

_Kid._ There it was again. The nickname Dean had hated for _years_.

He huffed and went back to marking, quietly seething. This had been a sore point for Dean since high school, since Dean began to grow into his own shell and had slowly started to become an independent adult. His parents began to treat him as if he was older by giving him more freedom, more leeway and more responsibility. So did his teachers and the family friends he’d known for years. Everyone accepted the fact that he was growing up, that he was no longer a kid. All except Cas that was.

Cas was strange… well… strange was an understatement. Dean could never tell what was going on his mind. They’d been friends for years and yet, Dean barely knew anything about the spirit. Sure, he knew titbits here and there. Like, he loved PB&J and his favourite song was _Wouldn’t It Be Nice_ by the Beach Boys. He knew Cas loved banter and knew many offensive jokes. He also knew that Cas was incredibly smart, despite how hard he tried to hide it.

Yet, Cas was secretive.

He knew little to no details about Cas’ former life. He had no idea when Cas lived or _where_ he lived, who his family was, how he grew up… how he _died_. Whenever he had tried to mention it, Cas did what Dean eventually dubbed as a “spirit hissy fit” and popped out of existence for a while. He’d always come back and Dean wouldn’t bring it up again… at least for a little while.

Yet Cas’ strangeness was also his insistence on treating Dean as if he were a child. Sure, he did meet Dean when he was four but he had definitely grown up since then. He’d graduated, gone to college, bought his parents’ house as his own, completed his masters and PhD and now was in his first year lecturing at the college he’d practically just left. His mail was addressed to Dr. Dean Winchester; he was teaching kids college level maths. Yet to Cas? He acted like Dean was doing his sixth grade Algebra homework.

And Dean… Dean was getting fed up.

He decided that he wasn’t going to finish these assignments in his current state and called it a day. He left the unmarked papers on his desk and got up, grabbing his laptop bag. Cas peaked open one eye, saw Dean was preparing to leave, and with a groan got up from the chair. Dean was quick to head out of the room, leaving the spirit behind him. However, he wasn’t surprised when he got out the door to find Cas already there, waiting for him in the hall.

He locked up and headed downstairs, Cas trailing behind him as per usual. They were always silent during the journey home, Dean learnt the hard way growing up what it was like to talk to spirits around others. In his adult years, he made sure never to communicate with a spirit in the public eye. Although, there were plenty of times when Cas attempted to antagonise him.

They left out the main exit, the pair of them turning right and heading towards the museum in order to get the bus back home. Dean wasn’t fond of this walk, especially when he knew the other way would be quicker. If Dean had turned left, gone past the war memorials to the campus main street, the bus there would get him home much quicker. Yet, Cas wasn’t too fond of that journey and would disappear when Dean decided to take that route. So, instead he made sure Cas stuck by him and they took the long way home.

As they arrived at the bus stop, Dean was ready for nothing more than to have a quiet bus ride home. Instead he found his name constantly and repeatedly said by Cas from the moment they crossed the road.

_“What!”_ He eventually hissed, causing an alarmed look from a passing bystander. Dean just flashed them a sheepish smile as they scurried on.

“Where’s Mrs. Winnigan?” Cas asked, pointing over to a nearby bench.

Across the street on the other side of the road there was a bench, where usually the spirit of Mrs. Winnigan sat. Dean and Cas had been introduced to her on Dean’s first week at the campus as a freshman, when the elderly woman realised that Dean was the first person in a long time who was able to see her. Her and Cas started up an unlikely friendship, the two of them having conversations while Dean waited for the bus. It was a lonely life for spirits, when they were stuck on Earth with nowhere to go and no one to talk to. Dean figured it was nice to chat to someone who understood what you were going through. Despite Dean being a companion for Cas for 26 years now – he could never understand what his friend was going through. He’d never faced death.

The bench however was empty now, no sign of Mrs. Winnigan anywhere. Dean looked over at Cas, his friend trying terribly hard to mask the mournful expression on his face. He made sure no one was around before he began to whisper to Cas.

“She must have moved on, worked through whatever kept her stuck here. Or you know, maybe the big guy upstairs took pity on her.”

Cas just nodded, continuing to stare at the bench.

“At least she’s in a better place now.”

Cas stayed silent.

The bus arrived and Dean hopped on. He looked behind him to try see Cas, only to see that the ghost had disappeared. With a sigh, Dean sunk into his seat, closed his eyes and embraced the silence. He knew Cas was aching for his friend, the one now passed on. He felt bad for Cas, losing a companion – someone that he could talk to. However, Dean knew that in the spirit world, that was the way things were run. Spirits never really lasted on Earth. They all disappear in the end, one way or another. Once they’ve found peace, they move on and it’s an end to an endless existence.

Mrs. Winnigan moved on. And someday, both Dean and Cas would have to accept that, Cas would move on too.

~*~

To no surprise, Dean heard the television blaring as soon as he walked through the front door. With a sigh, he placed down his laptop bag and headed into the next room. Cas was perched on the lounge, flicking through the channels. Except Cas’ version of changing channels was blinking and using his energy to manipulate the television frequencies. Dean was used to it, but it never ceased to bother him. Especially when he was enjoying a show that Cas somehow got bored of.

“There’s nothing on!” Cas whined like a petulant child as soon as he saw Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and ignored the spirit, heading into the kitchen to begin preparing dinner.

“If you let me have peace for the next 15 minutes, I’ll put Netflix on.” Dean called out to Cas as he turned the stove on.

Cas’ resounding silence was like music to Dean’s ears.

He cooked up a small broth, one that always made Cas mad. Apparently spirits had a sense of smell and _apparently,_ it was Dean’s fault that Cas could no longer eat. When he served it up and re-entered the living room, Cas was glaring at him. However, he seemed too excited for Netflix to bother being too irritated.

Dean sat down and loaded up Netflix, something that Cas apparently was unable to do with his _abilities_ . The two of them together had watched many different shows, from Stranger Things to fucking _Riverdale._ Dean was surprised that they hadn’t watched the entirety of Netflix by now, considering how much Cas was in love with the streaming site. As the home screen loaded, the _New to Netflix_ was the first thing that caught Dean’s eye. One of the recommended there was the show _Queer Eye_ as apparently, the newest season had come out.

“This is one I’ve been meaning to watch.” Dean said, clicking on it.

Cas, who had no idea what the show was about, shrugged and waved his hand for Dean to play it.

By the time they got to the halfway point of the first episode, Dean was enjoying it. He’d remembered watching Queer Eye for the Straight Guy years ago, but it hadn’t been as appealing as this. He loved the team and the way they collaborated in order to make over a seemingly normal guy. And the fact they were all openly gay? It was nice to know that society had become more and more accepting as it went on.

He looked over at Cas, who surprisingly had stayed quiet for the entire time. Usually he was a bucket of comments, saying everything that came across his mind. As he watched it, he had a frown on his face. Dean looked over at him, bemused.

“What?” He asked Cas.

Cas spared him a quick glance before turning back to the television.

“Nothing, I’m just… I’m not a fan of Jonathan.”

It took Dean a moment to remember who Jonathan was and when he realised, he was surprised.

“Why? He’s funny and confident. What’s not to like about him?”

Cas shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s just so… so _flamboyant_. I mean, people preach about how they want more acceptance for gays nowadays and how they aren’t all just stereotypes, yet here he is... a walking ‘70s gay conventional image.”

Dean gritted his teeth. Sometimes it was hard for him to realise that Cas lived long before he did. Cas had views that were very old fashioned, despite the fact that he was currently present for the 21st century. While he may not have realised it, his views on the show and the person, were bordering on the homophobic line.

“So what? Yes, not all people from the LGBT community you will come across will be so openly gay. Or, at least they won’t be so expressive. But there will be some that do come across, as you put it, flamboyant. They are allowed and proud to be. The community spent so many years being discriminated and repressed. While it isn’t all gone now, society as a whole has become more accepting.” 

Cas didn’t answer at first. They watched the next two minutes of the show in silence.

Then, Cas spoke up again. “It’s just… why be that flamboyant and… _out there?_ To me it seems like they are setting back the gay rights movement about 30 years.”

Dean didn’t say anything further after that, mostly because he wasn’t in his usual level-headed nature to do so. He wasn’t calm, he was _angry._

He knew that Cas wouldn’t say any of this if he knew the truth about Dean--if he knew that Dean was bisexual. Yet, he was glad to know what Cas’ beliefs and opinions were, without that interference. There was no doubt that his words hurt, considering they not only attacked Dean’s own sexuality but the fact that his feelings for Cas could never be acted upon. Not that he wanted to act upon them, considering he’d kept them quiet for the past 10 years. Yet, the little dream that it _could_ become a possibility that sat at the back of his mind, crumbled like a ball of discarded paper. 

They again were silent for another few minutes, until the episode came to an end. Usually, Dean would be quick to click on the next one. He _wanted_ to watch the next episode. Yet, his quietly seething nature was in no mood to sit next to Cas for any longer that night.

“I’m heading to bed.” Dean snapped, shutting off the TV. Cas turned to look at him in a state of bewilderment.

“What! Why?” He asked, taking a glance at the clock which read 8pm. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

_Ha._

“Just tired. Want an early night.” Dean stated, walking out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom. He shut the door behind him swiftly, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. He walked over to his bed and flopped onto his back, not bothering to change out of his casual attire.

He grabbed his iPod from his side drawer, chucking on his headphones and finding his Metallica playlist. He closed his eyes as the heavy riffs and drum solos played heavily in his ears, attempting to drown out the sound of his own thoughts.

He technically hadn’t lied to Cas, he _was_ tired. Tired of the bullshit and the years of his façade. Tired of Cas treating him the same and tired of his friend seeming to have the same old views of whatever year he had died long ago. He wanted things to change, he wanted to stop pretending.

He wasn’t just tired.

He was _exhausted._


	3. II

**II  
** **_two._ **

_ It was a wasteland. _

_ Dean looked around, seeing nothing but dirt and destruction in his surroundings. It was as it a nuclear bomb had exploded right where he’d been standing and had left nothing in its wake. He let out a shaky breath and turned his head, trying to see where he was.  _

_ He saw a man to his left looking at him with frazzled eyes, almost as if he was trying to tell him something. _

_ “Novak!” He heard through the sound of nothing. “NOVAK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” _

_ He wanted to respond, to ask: who is Novak? When all of a sudden he felt himself being pulled backwards and the area around him disintegrating into dust.  _

_ He ended up back home in his living room, on the couch he’d sat on so many times in his life. Cas stood before him, looking at him with sad eyes. _

_ “I have to leave Dean, I need to leave.” _

_ He felt the panic surge through him at those words and he felt himself wanting to stand up, wanting to stop his friend. Yet he was rooted to his seat, inclined to just stare hopelessly at the spirit. _

_ “What do you mean? You can’t leave?” _

_ “I have to leave Dean, I need to leave.” _

_ Cas began to turn away and walk and Dean just continued to yell. _

_ “Stop Cas! You can’t leave! Where are you going?” _

_ “I have to leave Dean.” The words began to echo. “I need to le--” _

_ “Cas!” He practically screamed. “Don’t leave me.” _

_ Suddenly, his friend was gone and Dean could feel his throat going hoarse. _

_ “Cas!” _

Dean felt himself startle awake, breathing heavily as he laid on his back. He looked around to see that he was in his bed and that it appeared to be sometime in the very early morning. He thought of the nightmare he just had and blinked to try and forget it. His Novak nightmare had been recurring since he was 10 and it was one he was unfortunately used to. Cas leaving him on the other hand? That was a new fear.

He groaned and ran a hand over his face, already feeling a vengeance about being awake. The day before came back to him in fragments, including Cas’ comments last night while they were watching Netflix. That plus his awful sleep was enough to put him in a sour mood, along with the fact that he still had a ton of assignments to mark.

With a groan he pulled himself out of bed and towards his closet, preparing for the shitfest that his Tuesday would be. 

  
  


Cas looked surprised when Dean entered the kitchen in a whirlwind, heading straight for the refrigerator in front of him. He grabbed out a carton of milk and flicked on the coffee maker, glaring at it as it took it’s sweet, sweet time. At first Cas was silent behind him, almost as if he was daring to not make a sound. However, after a few minutes it seemed that he decided to try his luck.

“Good morn—“

“Fuck off.” Dean almost growled as he grabbed his take away cup from the cupboard. He was in no _ mood  _ for Cas’ antics that day.

He poured his coffee and cream in before closing the lid. Once he felt he was prepared enough to deal with the day, he headed out. He paid no attention to Cas as he grabbed his bag and left out the front door. Yet he knew the spirit was following him as there was no way he was going to entertain himself at home that entire time.

It was office hours - so for the whole morning, Dean plastered on a fake smile as he talked with his students and helped them through their issues with the assignments. Cas continued to sit in the corner of the room, fortunately being as silent as possible.

The day wore on, dragging on at an agonisingly slow pace. Dean spent the rest of his afternoon marking the assignments for his sophomores, doing everything he could to at least get this one load of work off his plate. But no matter how hard he tried to concentrate, it wasn’t going as smoothly as he had hoped. From the mind numbingness of the task to the overwhelming elephant in the room, it just wasn’t going according to plan. 

He looked away from the algorithm in front of him and over to where Cas was sitting. Through his quick glance, he found that Cas didn’t have his eyes closed like the day before. He was staring out the window, the pale light from the cool day casting a shadow on his eyes. Dean couldn’t help but keep looking back and forth between the work and Cas, feeling his attention being drawn from what he was meant to be doing, to admiring the subtleties of the spirit’s beauty. Dean rarely got the chance the look at him like this, look at him in a state of relaxation and reflection. Most of the time, Cas personified that of an immature 12 year old or a grumpy old man. To see him almost… at peace, was something that was a rarity. 

However, his few moments of gazing Cas were disrupted by his own frustration creeping up on him like a lingering storm. He’d spent the past ten years in the same repetitive state, admiring Cas from afar, wanting nothing more than to just reach over and touch him. He’d always wanted to hug Cas, to seek comfort from a friend. Though in his childhood and adolescence, it was merely that of wanting to hug a friend or mentor. As an adult, especially one that realised the concept of being in love, the urge was more than overwhelming. It especially was undeniably agitating when he knew that Cas didn’t reciprocate it. Cas didn’t even  _ realise  _ there was anything  _ to  _ reciprocate. For being fairly omnipotent as a spirit, he was also quite daft. 

From the anger of Cas’ words the night before and the many years of unrequited love, Dean could feel his exasperation heightening to dangerous levels. He knew he needed to get home and bury himself in his bed for a while, until he felt calm enough to have a decent conversation with Cas. He left the work on his desk and picked up his satchel, before blowing out the door without even a glance at the ghost by the window.

Cas met him at the bottom of the stairs this time, not bothering to speak a word. The two of them headed back to the bus stop, where Dean caught Cas sending a forlorn look towards the empty bench across the road. Once on the bus, Dean placed his headphones on and attempted to let the words of Led Zeppelin blast the feelings back into a state of repression. 

As they walked down the street to Dean’s house, he hoped that Cas would continue to leave him alone. He’d been surprised by the spirit’s antics that day, considering he’d usually take Dean’s mood as a sign to annoy him further. He’d been practically silent for a total of five hours, which was unheard of when it came to him.

So he felt positive as they walked through the front door. He felt that maybe Cas had realised that Dean wasn’t in the mood, that he was one inconvenience away from burning everything to the ground. He figured Cas would probably watch something on TV and Dean would be able to escape to his room and calm down. 

Maybe Dean was a little too positive. Maybe he seemed to forget that he’d known this guy for 26 years. 

Because as soon as the door shut behind them, it was as if a flip switched inside Cas’ mind.

“What a day!” He cheerfully exclaimed, turning to face Dean with a grin on his face. Dean gave the slightest of nods and began to speed over to his room, ready to find his escape. Unfortunately, Cas wasn’t going to let him go that easily.

“You’re not going to leave me out here on my lonesome, are you?” Cas laughed, moving so that he blocked Dean’s path. Dean eyed Cas as if to tell him that he was in  _ no  _ mood for these games, but Cas ignored him.

“C’mon, I had to sit and be bored for hours today while you dealt with those students who barely know how to be literate. I mean, one asked you  _ how to research _ . I mean, I may not be totally up to date with college admissions in the 21st century but… shouldn’t be knowing how to  _ read, _ be one of the criteria points?”

Despite the fact that sometimes the questions Dean’s students asked made him question his will to live, he never was one to judge the students personally. Especially the freshman students, who were only just beginning to grasp college academics. These students had to have high grades to get into his courses as college level mathematics wasn’t easy. Some of these students were great with numbers, but found it hard to write. Or had disabilities such as Autism where they were gifted in particular areas, but weak in others. The particular student he knew Cas was talking about, had Dyslexia. Research was definitely not her strong point. Yet, her ability to compute algorithms in her head was beyond this world. 

Dean clenched his fists at his side. He would usually just give a snappy reply to one of Cas’ comments like these -- but he needed to attempt to maintain his cool.

Cas, of course, ignored the signs and continued on. 

“Plus, you seemed to be fucking bent all afternoon -- you had that look on your face you had when you were 13 and didn’t make the football team. So what’s up, kid? Did you have a nightmare last night? Have trouble sleep--”

“Can you shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn existence and stop treating me as if I am a fucking child?!” Dean felt himself blurt out in a fury. He realised that he had finally snapped and that he could no longer take Cas’ persistent, snarky tone -- nor his inability to realise that he wasn’t the only one in the room.

Cas took a step back and held his hands up, “Woah, woah, where is this all coming from?”

Dean shot Cas a dark gaze. “Where’s this all coming from? Maybe the fact that you never seem to shut your mouth and realise that I’m not a kid anymore that you need to be a shithead with?”

Cas looked confused. “Look I know you are in a bad mood but I don’t understand what brought this on all of a sudden? It’s just so rand-”

“Why?  _ Why?  _ Because I’m fucking  _ in love _ with you. Why can’t you see it?”


	4. III

**Ill  
** **three.**

Growing up in a small city, in _Kansas_ , being gay was not common.

In fact, Dean didn’t know anyone who was LGBT until he went to college. In high school, you wouldn’t second guess a male or female being straight. It was just… how life _was._ Dean had nothing against the LGBT community as he was raised to be accepting of anyone. His mom made sure that her boys respected _everyone_ that they talked to and didn’t judge anyone based on any sort of race, ethnicity or sexuality.

Yet despite that, Dean had never been exposed to anyone of the LGBT community for the longest time. When he reached high school, he knew he was attracted to girls right off the bat. He had a few different girlfriends on and off through his four years there and definitely no problem getting it up during hookups. He had no reason to even question it.

That was until he met his roommate in freshman year of college.

Dean first described Aaron as weird after meeting him. He remembered being alone in his dorm room with Cas, unpacking his shit while Aaron went to go get food in the cafeteria. He remembered looking around the room, pointing out the eccentric crap his new roommate had. From the books about Nazi history, the weird model statue on his desk and the bong by his bed. Cas didn’t seem fazed, but he wasn’t usually fazed by much. Dean remembered him sitting by the window as per usual, eyes closed as if he were sleeping. 

Dean thought at first he wasn’t going to like Aaron. 

Yet… time went on and slowly, Dean adjusted to his bizarre roommate. What started out as pleasantries, became full on conversations about their day. Suddenly, Aaron was inviting Dean to play computer games with him and Dean was willingly helping Aaron with his research. They began to have meals in the cafeteria together and go get coffee or drinks on the weekend. 

Which was why a few months into the semester, it wasn’t unusual for Aaron to invite him out. Dean, sick of his current assignment, agreed to go and began to get ready. When his roommate left, Dean remembered asking Cas if he wanted to come. Cas of course, did not. 

He journeyed with Aaron onto the campus and into one of the facilities. When they got there, Dean realised that they were at a club meeting--nd not just _any_ club--the LGBT club. Dean knew that Aaron was gay, it came up in one of their first immediate conversations. Yet Dean was confused as to why he was bringing _him_ there. He immediately attempted to explain to Aaron that he _wasn’t--_ but his roommate just stopped him with a laugh. 

_“Dude, I don’t care what you are. I just wanted you here for moral support. They said we all need to bring someone today to try and join but I didn’t have anyone but you. Plus, you can always join as an Ally--don’t need to be a part of the community to support it.”_

And as it turns out, Dean really loved being a part of that club.

Over the next month he attended the meetings with Aaron, meeting all the different people who he would never have interacted with. From Charlie, a literature major to Kevin, a pre-med student. He began hanging out with them in his free time, with Cas sometimes tagging along too. Dean felt like Cas only did it because he wanted to observe who Dean was now spending all his time with. Yet he seemed to like them as well, judging from the small smiles and laughs he cracked every now and then during some conversations. Dean knew at the time that if his friends were able to meet Cas, they’d like him too. 

By the time first year started to end, was when Dean began to question. The more time he spent at the club, the more he realised that sexuality wasn’t just black and white. He learnt about being ace, being demi and being trans--things Dean rarely had been exposed to growing up. He began to learn more and more about the community, from guest speakers to just his friends’ own experiences. He also learnt about what it meant to be bisexual, a term that stuck out the most to Dean. Hearing it for the first time, he remembered his heart racing at the thought. He didn’t know why at the time and just tried to bury it in his mind. Yet as continued to pop up every now and then, the more and more he got exposed to it. 

He didn’t act on it until his last week of freshman year. He’d gone to a party with his friends, a big frat party where there had to be at least 100 people. Throughout the night he’d lost most of his friends to the crowd, all except Aaron that was. Charlie, her girlfriend Gilda and Kevin had all disappeared and Cas hadn’t decided to tag along. 

He ended up in the corner of the room with Aaron, sharing a joint as people got trashed around them. What started out as weird conversations about star wars, ended with Dean all of a sudden just confessing. It was a spur of the moment confession, just him suddenly blurting out: “I think I’m bi!” 

The night ended with Dean’s lips swollen from an impromptu make out session with his roommate and him throwing up in the bathroom, with Cas standing by him and helping him through it. While the next day was awkward, Aaron and Dean both agreed in their sober state of mind that they were better off as friends. Aaron assured Dean that he wouldn’t out him to his friends and kept that promise for the rest of their time at college. While Dean could no longer hide from himself that he liked guys as well as girls, he at least could keep it a secret from his friends for a little while longer.

And for two years, he didn’t have a problem. He kept to his studies, caught up with Aaron even when they were no longer roommates. He remained an active member of the LGBT society. Yet, his sexuality remained a secret and he never felt the pressure to come out to anybody else. He continued to date girls, continued to have the occasional hook up, continued to flirt as per usual. He never was attached to anyone and while he found guys in passing attractive, it was never enough to pursue a full commitment. Usually just the occasional, secretive hook up. He didn’t even think that he would ever _actually_ end up with a guy.

It was until one night in junior year that everything hit him like a train. A sudden crash and it was as if everything came tumbling down on him.

That night he sat at his desk, studying. Cas laying on the bed behind him. He had an exam the next day for a subject he was struggling the most in. He was struggling to remember everything, the equations and theorems meshing together and the pages becoming blurry. He wanted to do nothing more but throw his book out the window. He was considering just not going and flunking it. He didn’t see how he would pass.

_“I can’t fucking do this Cas.”_ He remembered snapping to his friend. 

_“Yes you can.”_ Cas replied in a dull tone, eyes still closed as he lay on the bed.

_“No I can’t.”_ He growled, slamming the book shut. He shoved his head into his hands. _“I’m just gonna flunk it man, I can’t continue to try and study this shit.”_

He remembered hearing Cas shift behind him and suddenly, the spirit was right next to him and the book had magically re-opened to the page Dean had last left it on.

_“You can and you will.”_ Cas spoke with a firm tone, raising an eyebrow at Dean.

_“Yeah… why the fuck should I?”_ Dean retorted, trying to ignore the fact that he sounded like a teenager attempting to be rebellious. 

Cas rolled his eyes and huffed a small laugh. _“Because you’re Dean fucking Winchester, alright? Look, kid. You have more brains than me and that’s saying something. You know math, it’s pretty much embedded into your DNA at this point. You’re overthinking, you’re convincing yourself that this is hard but we all know it’s a piece of cake for you. Plus, you never give up and never accept a fail. I think you’d practically die before you’d do that.”_

_“It_ **_is_ ** _too hard Cas.”_ Dean replied.

Cas snorted. _“Yeah right. Look at it again Dean.”_

Cas then walked off and hopped back on the bed. Dean huffed and looked back at the book, at the equation he’d been struggling with. He wrote it down and began to go through the formula on his paper. As soon as he wrote down the beginning of it, it was almost as if it was muscle memory. He scribbled it down at lightning speed until he realised that he had actually solved the equation. The same equation he’d been stuck on. 

He remembered looking at the page with wide eyes and muttering a _“what the hell,”_ under his breath. He remembered Cas laughing from behind him saying, _“I told you, kid.”_

He continued to work through his study questions, a small smile on his face. He reflected on Cas’ words, the encouragement that his friend had given him. Cas wasn’t usually the type to do that, so the way he’d been there for Dean in that moment really had touched him. He remembered just thinking _I really love that guy._ In fact, he kept thinking it over and over. At first he thought it was purely innocent until he finished another equation and he finally took note of his thoughts. It was then that it all came crashing down on him like a brick wall and he dropped his pencil in shock.

“What’s wrong?” Cas had asked him.

“Nothing,” Dean said. “Just accidentally dropped my pencil.”

Cas hummed in response but said nothing more and Dean picked up his pencil slowly. He pretended to keep writing to avoid suspicion, when in reality he was just drawing random scribbles. His heart and mind were racing at a mile a minute as the realisation finally dawned on him and made his blood run cold.

He was in love with his _best friend._

~*~

Cas was quiet. Too quiet. Almost completely dead silent.

Dean was uncomfortable. Too uncomfortable. As well as utterly mortified.

He knew this would happen one day, that one day the ice would break and Dean would find himself drowning in shame. He’d tried so hard to keep his feelings for Cas repressed, under a rock that he never wanted to lift from his mind. However, he knew that it would come back to get him one day. That those feelings would rise from their depth and make Dean’s thoughts spiral into chaos. He knew one day something like this would happen, that the truth would be revealed.

He cleared his throat and attempted to get some words out. His tongue felt like it had grown in size and his throat felt as if it was permanently closed. 

“Please say something?”

Cas was still not speaking but he did take a deep breath. His eyes were rock solid, dark and untraceable. Dean had no idea what his friend was thinking or feeling, let alone how he was going to react. It took Cas a moment, but finally he spoke.

“You… you can’t be.”

Dean laughed humorlessly.

“Yeah well… I fucking am so you are just going to have to accept it.”

Cas snapped his gaze up and it’s almost as if Dean’s words had lit a fire.

“No you fucking _can’t_ be. Dean – I am dead. _Dead_ . I _died_ long before you were even born.”

Dean knew there was no turning back from this now.

He shrugged. “So?”

_“So?”_ Cas asked incredulously, almost as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of Dean’s mouth. “I watched you grow up from a child Dean. When I met you, you were _four years old._ It’s just… it’s _wrong_. It… I can’t…”

For the first time ever, Cas appeared to be at a loss for words.

Dean could feel the energy in the room and the way Cas looked as if he was almost ready to explode. Dean knew what happened when he pushed spirits too far. He had many broken bulbs in his room as a teenager. It seemed he always had a flare for pushing people… and entities… far beyond their limit. He didn’t want Cas to do something he would regret, nor did Dean himself. So he took a breath and decided to redirect the conversation.

“Look Cas… let’s just forget about it for now okay? Let’s just watch some TV and forget I even said a word. I… I really shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Dean.” Cas snapped. “I can’t just fucking _forget about it._ This is something I can’t just _forget._ ”

He looked away from Dean and out the window.

“I just…” Cas sighed. “I just need some space. Some time.”

And before Dean could say anything, Cas vanished.

~*~

Dean had another terrible night’s sleep, filled with endless nightmares and the sound of men screaming. He awoke in a cold sweat one too many times and it was when it finally reached 5am that he decided to start his day early. He was grumpy and in a foul mood and wanted nothing more than to try reach out for Cas and beg him to come home. Though at the same time, he knew that it would be useless. Cas did need his space, after the fucking nuclear bomb that Dean dropped on him. He’d just told his friend that he was _in love_ with him and then expected Cas to be fine with it. He may be tired, but the minimal night’s sleep did make him realise that he was a fucking moron.

Instead of calling in sick for his lectures, Dean decided that in a fit of petty rage he was going to take the shorter way to campus. He sat on the bus, listening to various artists through his headphones. He tried to let the music drown out his feelings of embarrassment and shame, along with the frustration he felt for his own behaviour. The frustration he felt that he had forced his friend to need to escape, to get away from him.

The bus stopped around the corner from the main street on campus. Dean got off and proceeded to head towards the lecture building near to his department. As he’s walked, he passed a familiar corner and upon seeing it, felt this blood run cold. 

The main part of campus by the bus stop happened to be where Dean’s favourite burger joint was located. He’d frequented there many times with Cas, who would complain the _entire_ time about his inability to eat. It was these burgers that got him through his degree, his doctorate and now, his actual job. However, there had always been a downside.

The corner of the street was the home of Moby, another spirit that Cas and Dean knew. However, he wasn’t friendly like Mrs. Winnigan--rather the exact opposite. He was a preacher in his human life, that much Dean could tell. From what started as friendly conversation when Dean was 16 and visiting the campus for the first time, turned into a distaste when bigoted and vile words spilled from the ghost’s lips. Turned out the preacher was racists and highly homophobic. He grew to know Dean, classifying him as a “faggot” long before Dean could identify himself. Whenever Dean would go to the burger joint with Cas, Moby was shout hatred towards them--he’d claim that they were sinners for being fags and would be punished in the pits of hell. All because they stood _next_ to each other. 

  
So going to his lecture, Dean had been all prepared for Moby’s daily interpretation of God’s word. Yet, he ended up seeing an empty corner.

Dean before then, believed that what had happened with Mrs. Winnigan was a fluke. She was a good woman, who didn’t deserve to still be stranded on Earth. Dean believed that maybe she was finally able to move on to the other side. Yet Moby? There was absolutely no way. If there were a heaven, there was no way Moby’s soulless spirit would be granted access. And Dean’s sure there was no way that even a hell would want him. So how did he pass on? How was he no longer here? While Cas floated wherever Dean did, Moby was always rooted to the spot. He never moved… not once. 

It was then that Dean realised that something was wrong. 

He proceeded to his lecture, knowing it was way too late to abandon them right before their major assessments. He felt worried and out of it the entire time, trying to do complex algorithms on the board with only half his brain switched on. He kept losing his train of thought and sometimes would repeat things he knew he already said. His students were looking at him as if he’d lost his mind and that’s when he knew he probably shouldn’t have come in that day.

After the students left, Dean rushed to the bathroom before his next lecture. He walked in and looked around, sleuthing at toilet stalls to see if anyone was in the bathroom. When he realised the coast was clear, he took a deep breath and leant against the sink.

“Uh.. hey Cas.” He muttered, trying his best to project his voice as quietly as possible. “Look.. I uh… I know you are probably in spirit land at the moment. I know you are fucking pissed at me but… but man please let me know that you are okay. Something's going on at the moment and I’m… I’m worried and need to know if you’re fine.”

He waited for about half a minute, concentrating to see if there was anyway he could make his friend appear. Yet, when he opened his eyes there was still no sign of Cas. He closed them again and took a deep breath.

“Cas, man, _please._ ”

Two minutes passed and yet, Cas was still nowhere to be seen. Dean felt sick to his stomach and felt his hands begin to shake. He wanted nothing more at that point than to skip his lectures and just flee the building. He wanted to make sure Cas was okay, _needed_ to. Yet, he couldn’t risk his job, nor just leave his students. Of course, he knew they would much appreciate not having to attend another lecture. Yet, he wouldn’t let them fall behind--even if he knew they would be happier to nonetheless.

The next two hours dragged by, with Dean feeling nauseous the entire time. He continued to stumble through his lectures, looking like an absolute moron in front of his students. Yet, he finally completed his last lecture and wasn’t hesitant to bolt out of the room as soon as the last student left. He rapidly began to walk to the bus stop, deciding to go to the one on the main street rather than the museum. Cas wasn’t with him and he knew that the alternate path was quicker. 

He walked with a determination, only feeling himself stop as he began to pass the war memorials. He felt his pace slow down and an overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety weigh on his chest. He felt his mind flicker as the vivid images of his nightmares flashed to his mind. He tried to shake them off as he practically raced home and away from the college. Yet, the sounds of men’s screams still continued to echo in his ears long aftr.

~*~

As he approached the front door of his house, he couldn’t help but stare at it with an overwhelming feeling of dread. He had no idea whether Cas would be in there or if he was off sulking somewhere in the spirit realm. Dean couldn’t help but worry that a much worse fate had happened to him. The uncertainties of the situation made Dean feel at unease and with hesitance, he slowly unlocked his door and entered.

“Cas?” He immediately called out. “Are you home?”

It was silent. With a gulp, Dean walked a bit further inside and into the living room. To his relief, he caught sight of a silhouette on the other side of the room--their back turned to him as they stared out the window. Without even needing to take a second glance, he just _knew_ it was his friend.

_“Cas,”_ Dean whispered. “Thank God.”

Cas turned around, a tentative expression on his face. His eyes looked sullen and sad. 

“Dean --” 

“Cas… what happened this morning… we can talk about it later. I’m just… I’m just so glad you’re here. I thought something happened to you.”  


Cas frowned. “You thought something happened to me? I’m a ghost… what could possibly happen--”

“Moby’s gone.” Dean deadpanned before Cas could finish. Cas’ mouth immediately shut tight and his eyes began to widen.

“Moby? As in the homophobic, piece of shit pastor? The one on Main Street?” 

“The very one. He wasn’t there, at all. It’s just… it’s like he’s _vanished._ ”

Cas is quiet for a moment as he contemplated the words Dean had just said. Then suddenly, he made eye contact with Dean and a tense energy filled the room.

“Mrs. Winnigan.” Cas said. “What if… what if she isn’t in Heaven? What if she hasn’t moved on? There’s… there’s no way Moby did so… what if something happened to the both of them?”

“I think something did happen to them Cas… it’s why I was worried you were gone.”

The tension in the air thickened.

“What do you think happened to them?” Cas asked.

Dean sighed. “I don’t know Cas… but we’re going to find out.” 


	5. IV

**IV  
** **_four._ **

“Hey!” 

The sound of someone shouting caused both Dean and Cas to turn around in a flash. The both of them instantly spotted Kevin, who was leaning against one of the benches in the science lab. He looked the same as he always did--pale and thin with his dark black hair peeking out from under a blue beanie. His smile was the same as always though, just like it had been when he was alive.

Dean knew Kevin from his time in college, from freshman to sophmore year. He met him through the LGBT club, back when Aaron introduced him to it. Kevin was shy, probably the shyest of their little group. He was also asexual, one of the newer and lesser known sexualities. It took him awhile to come out and a while to really feel comfortable admitting who he was. 

However, his death happened before he even had time to tell his mom. It was in the beginning months of Sophomore year on a Sunday afternoon that Dean got the call. It was from Charlie, who had obviously been crying due to the hoarseness of her voice. She was quick to reveal the news that their friend had been killed in a hit and run incident. That he was found dead on the scene from head trauma. That they were unable to revive him. 

Cas who had been lingering, heard the news and asked if Dean was alright. Dean just sighed and said he didn’t know yet. Being able to see spirits, Dean reacted to death differently than others. Most people had no idea what happened in the afterlife, what happened from the moment they or their loved ones shut the lights off forever. Yet, Dean did. Or at least he had an idea of what happened to some.

Cas tagged along as Dean met up with Aaron, Charlie and Gilda. His group was inconsolable and Dean did his best to comfort them. At first, he hadn’t seen Kevin--so he truly believed that Kevin did pass on to a better place. It was what the mantra kept repeating—reminding them when they found the pain and mourning tough to bear.

However, then came the funeral a week later. The four of them and Cas piled into the church, to say their goodbyes to their friend. As the eulogy began, Dean held Charlie’s hand and kept his head down, listening to the heart wrenching words said by Kevin’s mom. As she spoke, he felt Cas beginning to poke and prod him urgently through his energy, as if he was trying to say something to him.

Dean lifted his head up and glared daggers at Cas because _no way_ was he going to speak to him in the middle of a funeral. It was then that Cas pointed and indicated to something at the front of the church. Dean followed his friend’s gaze and instantly his stomach churned at the sight.

There, staring over his own casket, was Kevin.

Kevin hadn’t realised that Dean could see him until they approached the casket with roses. As Dean laid one down, he made eye contact with his friend who stared back with wide eyes.

_“Dean… you can see me?”_

Dean gave the slightest nod of his head as he didn’t know how subtly he could indicate to Kevin that he would talk to him later. It was Cas who had spoken for him, letting Kevin know to meet them outside in five minutes. Once the funeral was over, Dean and Cas split from the group as _‘Dean needed a minute.’_ It was there behind the church that they explained everything to Kevin and as they all say, the rest was history. 

Kevin ended up spending his days lingering around the university, sitting in Dean’s lectures and others. Being dead, he had nothing better to do than to try and study as much as he could during his infinite stay on Earth. Kevin continued to learn everything his pre-med major had to offer, before continuing onto engineering, mathematics, biology and chemistry. He was a brain full of knowledge, which is why he was the first person Dean decided to turn to. 

Since Thursday was Dean’s day off, they approached Kevin in one of the science facilities, hoping that he had some answers to give them.

“Hi Kevin.” Dean greeted his friend. “How’s it going?”

Kevin shrugged. “Same as usual. Aced one of the chemistry quizzes today. How about you? How’s things with the gang?”

Dean laughed. “Same as usual. According to Facebook, Aaron and Dave celebrated their 2 year anniversary last weekend. Also Arabella has just turned 8 months. Charlie was sending me all sorts of pictures of her. I’ve never seen her and Gilda so happy.”

Kevin grinned. “That’s great! Do you have any of those pictures?”

The two of them spent the next five minutes cooing over pictures of Charlie and Gilda’s daughter, until something clearing their throat interrupted them. They turned to see Cas, staring at them with narrowed eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt the moment. But I believe Dean, we came here for a reason.” 

Dean sighed and turned his phone off. “Right, uh… Kevin… we wondered if you knew anything about—”

“The disappearing spirits?” Kevin asked with a small hint of a smile. “Yes, I have happened to notice.”

Dean relaxed while Cas leaned forward, intrigued and bemused.

“What do you know?” 

“Not a lot,” Kevin admitted. “From what I can tell, spirits have been disappearing into the veil and are being trapped in there. Cause usually, we move freely in and out of the veil as we please. However, these ghosts aren’t coming back out. They’re… they’re still here in a sense. Still around but yet just not in the same reality.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you… and maybe even I… are able to talk to them?”

Kevin sighed and shook his head. “No… well at least not that I know. I’ve been trying to contact a few here on the Earth plane but have had no luck. And I can’t risk popping into the veil with the fear of not being able to get out.”

Dean and Cas exchanged glances, the both of them knowing what Kevin’s words meant.

“So… I shouldn’t be going into the veil either?” Cas stated slowly.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.”

They all grew silent.

“Do you have any idea how this is happening?” Dean asked after a pause.

“No. Without being able to ask anyone on the inside, it’s really all up to speculation. And I have minimal theories.

In the distance, the sound of footsteps alerted them to the fact that someone was approaching.

“Your best bet of solving this for both Cas and I is to find someone who can pierce through the veil.” Kevin said quickly.

“Like who?”

The sounds of the footsteps got louder.

“I don’t know! A psychic, a medium, a freaking hoo doo witch? All of the above? I don’t know Dean but you have to work it out.”

Dean opened his mouth to say more when Kevin vanished, walking straight through a wall and out of the room. Dean barely had enough time to whip out his phone when the door opened and someone walked in.

“Professor Winchester?” The man asked. Dean turned around, pretending he was on a phone call to see an old student of his standing there. He’d been in his first year class years ago and now worked as a TA in the science department. 

“Sorry… I’ll have to call you back.” He spoke to the fake person on the phone. 

Cas snickered from beside him. 

He pretended to hang up and turned to his former student. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember his name.

“Hi…” He began to drawl, watching as Cas walked over and looked at his ID badge.

“Jeremy!” He called out.

“... Jeremy!” Dean finished, flashing a smile.

“What are you doing in here?” Jeremy asked, confused.

Dean indicated to the phone in his hand. “Sorry… I was uh… having a meeting with Professor Callehassi when I had to take this phone call. The room was empty so I thought I’d just answer it in here.”

Jeremy still looked confused. “Did… were… was there another person in here?”

Dean exchanged a quick look with Cas, before panning his eyes around the room.

“No… um… speakerphone?” Dean said, holding up his phone again. Despite having 30 years to work on his acting skills revolving around ghosts, they were still quite poor.

Luckily, Jeremy seemed to buy it.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, all the confusion gone. “I just heard another voice in here and thought I was just imagining things. Sorry for bothering you, Professor!” 

Dean just forced a small smile and said goodbye, heading out the door. With that he proceeded to quickly scramble his way out of the science building and practically bolt home.

“That was a close one _Professor._ ” Cas said as they began to walk the usual path to the bus station.

“Shut up.” Dean snapped.

~*~

When they arrived home, Dean’s immediate thoughts were on finding someone or something or _anything_ to communicate through to the veil. 

“I’ll get some books at the library tomorrow after my classes. Books on sigils and shit. I’ll also try and see if I can research someone who can talk into the veil. Like a psychic or whatever, I don’t even know.”

Apparently, Cas had other ideas.

He stood in front of Dean, so that Dean had to quickly to stop walking in order to not risk falling through Cas. His friend was looking at him through eyes swimming with guilt.

“Dean… about yesterday…” He began to say.

Dean stopped Cas but shaking his head. “Don’t Cas, I… it’s not that I don’t want to talk about it or anything. It’s just… I realise I was coming on too strong. I didn’t mean to lash out like that, say what I said in the way that I did… I just let it all rise to the surface and explode. So… for that I’m sorry.”

Cas stayed silent as Dean continued.

“I- I don’t expect you to return my feelings, now or ever. But Cas… I do expect you to start treating me like a fucking adult. I’m not the four year old, or seven year old or ten year old that you once knew. I’m a professor now, I own my own home. I know my thoughts and feelings. I know _who I am._ If… if you can’t understand that, then we are doomed even as friends.

Cas sighed but sent Dean a small smile. “I understand Dean… I realise that sometimes the way I speak to you isn’t appropriate for your age. It’s unintentional but still, not appropriate. I’m sorry that you feel that way.”

Dean could feel a small weight lift off him at Cas’ words.

“And I’ll try to start seeing you more as who you are than who you were. For what it’s worth… I’ll try.”


	6. V

**V  
** **_five._ **

It’s the following Sunday when Dean remembers his old neighbour, Missouri Moseley.

It was a cold day outside, so himself and Cas were lounging in the living room. They were both pouring through the different lore books that Dean had ransacked from the library. They were trying to find any possible way to contact the other side, as they had the absence of a psychic who was able to channel that. Although Dean had attempted, it became obvious that he could only see and talk to ghosts if they were on the Earth plane, rather than the ethereal plane. 

Dean was looking at different sigils, seeing if any pointed towards spell work. As his eyes slowly gazed upon one, that was when he remembered. 

Missouri Moseley had been a good friend of his family’s and around town, was a known psychic. While his father had always claimed she was a fraud, his mother adored her and believed every word she had. Missouri had babysat the Winchesters for some time, while their mother and father both had to work to make ends meet. She’d pick Dean up from school and watch Sam during the day. 

She was also one of the only people close to Dean that knew about his abilities. Her husband had died a few years after Dean was born and whenever Dean visited their house, he could see him. Dean talked to him a lot, especially by the time he was eight. Missouri had noticed and was always delighted in the messages that Dean ended up relaying from her beloved. 

However, by the time Dean was ten - Miss Missouri moved away. They as a family were devastated by the loss of a good friend of theirs, even though they knew she was moving on to be close to family. From what Dean could remember, she had moved to St. Louis to be closer to her son and granddaughter. It was from that point onwards that Dean never saw her again. 

“Cas!” Dean exclaimed, causing the ghost to startle. 

“What?”   
  


“Do you remember from years ago when I was a kid… Missouri Moseley?” 

Cas contemplated for a moment but then nodded.

“Yeah I remember her. She used to look after you and sam. Correct?”

Dean nodded. “Correct. She was also… from what I can recall… psychic.”

Cas didn’t say anything further, but the slightest bit of hope gleamed in his eye. Dean got up and went into his bedroom where his laptop was perched on the end of his bed. He wondered if Missouri was still running her psychic business, even in St. Louis. He wondered if maybe, just maybe, her details would be online.

He looked up  _ Missouri Moseley, St. Louis  _ into his google search and was excited to see that the first result that popped up was for a Facebook page. Clicking on it, he saw the profile picture was a professional taken photo of his old neighbour. While she had differences due to the many years that had passed since he’d last seen her, she also looked like she hadn’t aged a day. He still saw the same Missouri he said goodbye to all those years ago, the Missouri from his childhood.

Fortunately, there was a contact number on the page. He reached for his phone on his side table and immediately dialed it, listening as the phone began to ring.

Two rings later, someone answered.

“Dean!” The raspy voice exclaimed. “Hello!”

“Hello M… wait… how…”

It was then Dean realised that he was attempting to ask the  _ psychic,  _ how she knew he was on the phone. He cleared his throat.

“Hi Missouri, it’s been a long time.”

“Dean Winchester as I live and breathe… it certainly  _ has  _ been a long time. How are you? How’s your mom? Sam? Dad?”

Dean smiled. “Mom and Dad are good. They live all the way in Houston now, in a little retirement home I guess you’d call it. Mom is always updating me on the town gossip. Dad is continuing to keep himself busy with the mechanic stuff. I don’t think he understands the point of retirement.”

Missouri laughed. “That does sound like your father.”

“As for Sam, he’s at law school at the moment--he’s about to graduate in two months. He lives in California and has a fiance, Jess. I met her two Christmases ago and she’s definitely perfect for him.”

Dean continued to fill Missouri in about the details of his life. He talked about college, Sam’s graduation, his dad’s retirement party. He talked about becoming a professor, his parents leaving and Sam’s scholarship. He and Missouri conversed for a good thirty minutes about everything they missed, until Dean was interrupted.

He looked up to see Cas had entered the room, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. It was then that Dean realised why he had called Missouri in the first place.

“Oh… right.” Dean murmured. “Sorry Missouri… as much as I loved catching up… I actually called for another reason.”

Missouri laughed again. “Dean Winchester, even over the phone you aren’t subtle. I know for the moment you called you had some sort of… dilemma on your hands. What do you need?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Right… uh… when I was young… did you remember me mentioning a ‘Cas’ at all?”

Missouri hummed to herself for a moment. “Yes… yes you did. Only a couple of times though. I figured he was a friend of yours from school, cause you only mentioned small stories in passing.”

“Yeah… um… he is a friend of mine but I didn’t meet him at school. I met him in my backyard in 1993--when I was just four years old. He’s… he’s basically was the first spirit I met and the longest I’ve ever known. He’s actually with me here right now.”

“26 years you’ve had a spirit attached to you? That’s… that’s a long time.”

Dean nodded, before realising Missouri couldn’t see him. However, her little giggle indicated that she knew what he had just done.

“It is but… but he’s a good friend of mine. A close friend. And the reason I’m calling is because… something is going on that is putting him and other spirits in jeopardy.”

Dean proceeded to explain to Missouri the predicament of the current spirit world. When he was done, he realised that Missouri wasn’t telling him something.

“What is it?”

Missouri sighed. “Well, now that you mention it. I’ve noticed that some of the spirits I can usually…  _ feel  _ around me are no longer there.”

“You mean…?”

“No, not Terry. He passed on years ago, a little while after James’ wife died. I meant more the spirits of my clients, the ones I feel around me whenever they visit. I connect with them during our sessions… and now most of them are gone. I thought it was just coincidental but after what’ve you said…”

“Have you tried contacting them in the veil?” 

“No because I always figured it was because they moved on. Not because I felt something bad had happened to them. I can research into it, maybe try to contact a few of the spirits I know that have recently disappeared.”

“I can help if you want?”

Missouri seemed pleased at the possibility of catching up with Dean. Cas left the room as the two of them made plans to meet up and work to figure out the situation. Dean agreed to travel to St. Louis next week during Spring Break to see Missouri. After some further pleasantries and a plan in motion, they both hung up the phone.

Dean wandered out of the room to find Cas in his usual perch on the couch, watching TV.

“Hey Cas.” Dean greeted, the spirit humming in reply.

“You up for a trip to St. Louis next week?” 

Cas huffed.

“Sure, it’s not like I really have a choice, do I?” He retorted, in what Dean would label a slightly condescending tone.

Dean gritted his teeth as that seething anger that always appeared due to Cas attitude, began to bubble under his skin. Cas seemed to realise as his eyes went wide and he turned to Dean quickly.

“Dean I’m--”

Dean just shook his head and went over to the television, turning it off. He then sat himself down on the ground, with this knees up for his elbows to rest on.

“Look Cas… you don’t need to apologise.” Dean said. “This… this situation with us far too complicated to fix within a couple of days. I know you’re trying but… this whole thing isn’t going to work unless we start over.” 

Cas furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Dean grinned.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Cas looked at him with an incredulous gaze at first, before he too beamed a huge smile.

“Nice to meet you Dean Winchester. I’m Cas.”


	7. VI

**VI  
** **_six._ **

Over the next week, while Dean and Cas worked on getting to know each other in a different light, more spirits began to disappear. Including Kevin.

The day when Dean went to visit Kevin, only to realise he was gone, was when the dread of the situation began to creep on him. He’d been ignoring the drastic nature of the dilemma for a while at that point, especially when a lot of his mind was focusing on developing a new-found relationship with Cas. A friendship that was altering 26 years of their past. In doing that, he had forgotten about those spirits who were being taken. Including his friend.

He was also angry at Kevin, wondering if his friend had done something stupid that cause him to be placed into the veil. He wanted to punch something, throw something across the room, do _anything_. However, when Cas eventually came into his line of view--his eyes sullen and pleading… the anger slowly drained out of Dean.

He realised that Cas was still here, still safe with him. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to stay by Dean and together they were going to find a solution.

So on the Monday morning of Spring Break, they left for St. Louis. Dean had found it ironic how Missouri had moved to the state of Missouri, and had mentioned it in their previous night’s phone call where they finalised their plans. Missouri, apparently, did not find it so amusing. It was only a 5 hour drive, including stopping for gas. It wasn’t one that bothered Dean, considering the amount of family road trips he had gone on during the summer. However for Cas, who was used to just teleporting everywhere, it was an agonising drive for him.

By the time they made it to Missouri’s home, Dean was sick of his constant whining.

As they pulled into the driveway, Dean noticed Missouri was already waiting for them on the front porch. With a grin, Dean got out of the car and shut the door behind him.

“Missouri!” He called out.

“Dean Winchester, come over here and give me a hug.” She replied. 

Dean walked up and into Missouri’s open arms, embracing her. They held onto each other for a little while, where during that time Cas had wandered up next to them. As they stepped away from each other, Dean turned to look at this friend.

“Um, I know you can’t see him… but Cas is here.” He told her.

Missouri rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know Dean. I can feel his energy.”

She turned in the direction that Cas was standing, almost as if she was looking him straight in the eye.

“Hello Cas. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Dean was surprised that Cas began to smile.

“You too.” He said, as if she could hear him. Dean relayed the message, but Missouri’s almost _knowing_ look made him feel like he didn’t need to.

Missouri lead them both inside and offered Dean a glass of lemonade. At the mention of her homemade lemonade, Dean could feel his inner kid bounce with joy. He’d always loved Missouri’s lemonade as a kid--in fact, he used to practically race to Missouri’s from school in order to have it. He was disappointed as he took his first sip of the lemonade in 20 years. It tasted the exact same and brought back some fond childhood memories. 

As both Missouri and Dean drank the lemonade and ate homemade biscuits, Dean filled her in on everything in detail. He talked about Kevin, about Moby and Mrs. Winnigan. He explained Kevin’s theory about how it may be linked to the veil, that all the spirits are stuck there. By the time their glasses were empty and there were only crumbs on their plate, Missouri was all caught up. 

“So… this Kevin… do you think he’s in the veil?” 

Both Cas and Dean nodded, but Dean was the one to respond.

“Yes. He definitely is.”

“Okay… well… we can hold a seance and try to contact him through there… the problem is, I need something of this to do so. I need something he’s touched.” 

Dean bit his lip for a moment. Something Kevin touched? He wasn’t sure he had anything--

It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in Dean’s head. He gestured for Missouri to wait a moment as he raced out of the house and to his car. Unlocking his trunk, he stifled around through the various books and items he had stored in there and never bothered to get out. One of those, which Dean so gloriously found after a minute, was Kevin’s notebook. 

Kevin and Dean had done the same unit in their second semester of Freshman year. Leading up to exams, Dean had asked Kevin if he could copy some notes and Kevin had kindly leant him his notebook. Dean had forgotten to give it back, something he still felt bad about to this day. He even apologised to Kevin at one point, in which the spirit had called him an idiot. However, in this moment… he was never so grateful for keeping that notebook.

He rushed back inside with it, showing the book to Missouri which clearly had on the front: _Property of Kevin Tran._

While Missouri set up her table for the seance, Cas and Dean stood off to the side together. After a couple of minutes, Cas turned to Dean.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” Cas asked. 

Dean sighed and shrugged.

“It’s the only idea we’ve got.”

Cas didn’t argue with that.

A minute later, Missouri ushered Dean to the table and together they held hands. There was an extra chair perched nearby, which Cas sat down on so that he could observe everything that was happening. 

Over the lit flame, Missouri began to speak.

“Our beloved Kevin Tran, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Kevin Tran, and move among us.”

Dean peeked one eye open, only to find that nothing had happened. He did happen to the note, however, that the room got a few degrees colder. 

“Our beloved Kevin Tran, we bring you gifts from life into death.” Missouri repeated. “Commune with us, Kevin Tran, and move among us.”

Now the room had definitely gotten colder. Dean felt a shiver at the bottom of his spine. A breeze had also begun to swirl around the room. He heard Missouri huff. 

“Our beloved Kevin Tran!” She began to shout. “We bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Kevin Tran, and move among--”

Before she could finish, the lights began to flicker in the room and all of a sudden, it felt as if the room had dropped to sub-zero. Then, as quickly as it had left--the room felt normal again. Dean opened his eyes to see Missouri smiling, however with her eyes still closed. 

“Hello Kevin, it’s lovely to meet you.” She greeted.

“Kevin?” Dean said, going to move his hands away. Missouri clutched them tightly.

“Dean, if you move your hands away you break the seance. Just sit still and be quiet.” She snapped. Dean did as he was told.

“Kevin, may I ask you a question.”

Silence.

“Thank you. Can I ask how this happened?”

Continued silence. 

“Someone took you? Do you know who?”

The wind began to pick up again, swirling around the room ever so slightly.

“You don’t know? You don’t know who you took you?”

Dean felt the breeze trickle past his ear.

“Oh… you don’t know their name. Could you describe them to me?”

Suddenly, the room dropped to sub-zero again and Dean began to shiver. The wind picked up to a more fast paced speed, sending dozens of Missouri’s paper scattered around the room. 

“Son of night? Who is the son of night Kevin?”

The wind continued to create a tornado effect in the room and the temperature continued to drop. The sound of banging echoed from around the house as windows and doors began to open and close. The lights continued to flicker.

“Kevin?” Missouri asked.

Then, again, as quickly as it came, it stopped. However, this time, it felt more finite to Dean. He watched as Missouri sighed and disconnected their hands. She opened her eyes and stared over at Dean with a disappointed look. 

“Sorry Dean, it was what you’d call… a bad connection.”

“A bad connection?”

“There was an interference… like trying to call someone in a place of bad reception. It seemed as if there was something… or someone… blocking our communication. I could barely hear him, but what I did get out of him was that someone placed him there. Someone that goes by, or is connected to the _son of night?_ ” 

Dean gave Cas a quick glance, who looked about as clueless as he was. 

“Do you have any idea who that might be?” Dean asked Missouri as she began to blow out the candles. 

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. It doesn’t ring any bells. I will try to look into it, but I’m mainly good at being a psychic… not any good at lore or research.”

Dean smiled. “Well, I’m a professor… research is kind of what I do. Cas and I can take a look at some of the books we got from the library and I can find a few more. Once… or _if_ I find anything out… I’ll make sure to give you a call.”

“Please do. Also don’t be a strange Dean Winchester. I should hope that I’m not just waiting for you to call me about the son of night. I expect weekly phone calls from now on.”

Dean laughed. “Yes ma’am.” 

After helping her clean up, Dean gave her a hug goodbye. With another long drive ahead of them, Dean wanted to leave sooner rather than later. 

He waved to Missouri from his car as he pulled out of the driveway and sped off down the road back towards Kansas. Once they were down the street, Dean finally let all his emotions and frustrations roll out.

“Dammit!” He yelled, slamming the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.

Cas sighed. “It seems are worse than we thought.”

Dean laughed humorously as he slunk back into his chair, keeping his eyes trained on the road in front of them.

“Yeah. We’re fucked.”


	8. VII

**VII  
** **_seven._ **

The next week went by slowly, with most of Dean and Cas’ time spent studying the lore. There were  _ a lot  _ of books, full of mythology, ancient history and sigils/symbols. Each book was at least a 100 pages and in order for them to find the information they needed, Dean and Cas had to read each and everyone of them. 

Dean’s spring break was spent inside his home, reading lore with several cups of coffee beside him. Cas most of the time would read beside him, humming nonsensical tunes. Sometimes he’d get up and have a break, leaving Dean alone in the silence. While Dean found the content dry and the week incredibly boring, he also couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it just the slightest bit. Between reading, he and Cas would talk about random subjects from the weather to the Dean’s classes. It was… comforting in a way, that he and Cas could talk like that. The whole time, Cas never talk down to him, or in a condescending manner. He never once called Dean,  _ kid.  _ In fact… it had been a really great week. 

On the following Monday, Dean and Cas found themselves continuing to read through the lore in Dean’s office. His assignments laid in a heap at the edge of his desk, continuing to be unmarked. He knew he needed to get to them eventually, but he would rather take on a couple of pissed off students then let whatever was going on continue. He and Cas needed to figure this out… and fast.

Fortunately for Dean after a couple of hours of reading, Cas leapt up from his chair by the window in excitement.

“Dean!” He exclaimed. “I’ve got it.”

Dean left his book where it was and got up, moving out from around his desk so that he could go look at Cas’ book. The book was perched on the window sill, the page open on a page titled  _ Nox.  _ Dean looked at the small header of the page, which stated that the book was about Roman Mythology.

“What? Who’s Nox?”

Cas sent Dean an exasperated look.

“Nox is the Roman Goddess of night. I was reading information on her and it said that she had two children. I first read Somnus, which is God of Sleep--but I didn’t think he had anything to do with it. Then I read the next one which is Mors. Can you guess what he is the God of…?”

Dean just blinked.

Cas sighed. “Death. Mors is not only the God of Death but… remember what Kevin said?”

Finally, it all seemed to click together.

“The son of night.”

Cas nodded.

“So… by that logic…”

“Mors, or  _ Death _ , has been taking the spirits. He’s the one behind all of this.”

They exchanged a wide eyed glance. Dean had always been raised an atheist. He didn’t believe in God or Satan or any sort of figure of worship. Honestly, he never would believe that Roman Gods themselves existed. However, he had to face the facts and after all their researching--this seemed like the most highly probable solution.

“Cas…  _ you did it. _ ”

They were quick to get Missouri on the phone, who upon answering was bombarded with Dean rattling off information. It took her a couple of minutes to analyse and understand what Dean was  _ actually  _ saying, but in the end--she seemed to be able to decode his rambling.

“I’m going to go through my books and locate a summoning spell. There should be one here,  _ somewhere.  _ Once I do, I’ll call you and we’ll arrange a time.”

With the agreement made, they hung up the phone and Cas and Dean packed up to head home.

~*~

Once home and both exhausted from their relentless research, they both piled onto the couch so that Dean could put on Netflix. Dean put on the episode of Queer Eye they were up to and sunk into the couch to watch it. They were quiet for almost half the episode, just silently watching as their brains attempted to recuperate from the overstimulation. However, after about 25 minutes, Dean decided to break the silence.

“Cas, can I ask you a question?”

Cas sent him a quick side glance.

“Sure.”

Dean turned to face Cas, causing the spirit to sigh. He watched as Cas closed his eyes for a moment and suddenly, the TV paused. He turned so that he could face Dean as well. He obviously knew that this was going to be a  _ conversation  _ and not just a quick couple-word exchange.

“When…  _ whenever  _ you were alive… was gay rights accepted?”

Cas froze for a moment, looking away as he began to think. Dean observed him. He seemed to be attempting to close himself off, as if he were hiding something. Considering this was  _ Cas _ , the man Dean barely knew anything about, he wasn’t surprised. 

“Look Cas… if it’s too hard to answer, it’s fine we can just leave it. I was only curious.”

He watched as the spirit shook his head. Looking up so that he could look at Dean. 

“No… it’s… it’s just that I haven’t been totally honest with you. But… I promised you that we’d start afresh. That I’d try so… it means detailing my past a bit more to you.”

Dean could feel everything inside him freeze. He felt as if he was on the edge of his seat, waiting to hear what Cas had to say.

“First of all, no. During the time in which I lived… they were not all accepting of the LGBT community. In fact, we as a society were completely repulsed but it.” 

Cas sighed.

“My parents were devout Catholics and were against  _ homosexuals  _ with every ounce of their being. They raised me to be like that too. So when I got to my teenage years and my body began to send me confusing signals, I had quite a dilemma on my hands.”

Dean could feel himself holding his breath as he realised what Cas was trying to say. 

“I never acted upon it, but I knew I was one of those  _ homosexuals  _ ever since I was 13 years old. Yet like I said, I had a family and a whole society against that side of me. So I chose to ignore it instead. It’s why in the end, I had a wife.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “A wife?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. She was a beautiful and wonderful woman who was very good to me. However, I wasn’t in love with her. I couldn’t be, no matter how hard I tried. I did love her of course, but more as someone who I cared about.”

Cas went quiet for a moment, his eyes glazing over. Dean understood that this was hard for him, especially recalling memories that were practically lifetimes ago. It’s why he also understood when Cas decided to change the subject.

“What about you? Why did I never know you were attracted to men?”

Dean laughed quietly. “I’m bisexual so I am attracted to men and women. I guess it’s why I was able to disguise it so well. I… I was just always closed off about it. I didn’t even truly realise until college and there the only person I told was Aaron. I… I was just afraid to explore that side of myself I guess.”

Dean began to grin as a memory popped into his mind. Cas raised his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Well… there was this time in junior year of college. I was having a rough night and I went out to a local frat party. There was this guy here, Sean or Sam or something. He liked me, was totally a closeted gay--I could tell. After some time together, doing the usual beer pong and such… he took me up to his room in the frat house. We were pretty drunk and one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was giving him the sloppiest blowjob ever. Afterwards, I was qucik to leave as I realised that  _ fuck,  _ I actually  _ did  _ that. I got home tipsy and in a daze and you were waiting for me. I’m pretty sure you just suspected I was drunk though.”

Dean doesn’t mention that the reason he was having a rough night was because Cas had been ignoring him most of that day. He decided not to ruin a good moment though.

Cas took a minute to process Dean’s story. Once he did, he couldn’t help but laugh himself into a fit.

“Dean Winchester.” He gasped out. “You never fail to surprise me.”


	9. VIII

**Vlll  
** **_eight._ **

The day was almost completely normal. 

And by  _ almost completely normal,  _ Dean felt there were only two abnormalities to the day.

The first was the phone call he got in the morning. 

It was 8am when Dean woke up to the call. It was a non-teaching day and he didn’t need to be on campus until 1pm. That meant that he appreciated the time he got to sleep in and used it to his full advantage. 8 in the morning was  _ not  _ a part of that agenda.

“Hello…” He mumbled into the phone, still half asleep. 

“Dean Winchester, get your butt out of bed before I drive over there and  _ make  _ you.” 

Missouri’s loud voice trailing through the phone was enough to make him bolt up into an upright position.

“Missouri, g’mornin.” 

“Well it certainly is a good morning Dean as I was able to find a summoning spell.”

Dean felt everything in him freeze for a split second, before firing up in excitement. He threw the blankets off of himself as he got out of bed.

“You did? One that will actually work?”

He could practically hear Missouri rolling her eyes.

“Yes Dean, one that will  _ actually  _ work. I’ll get everything prepared, just make sure you and Cas get here by noon on Saturday. We will perform it that afternoon.”

“Sounds like a plan Missouri, thank you for all your help.”

She laughed. “No need to thank me Dean. You’re family, we help each other out.”

He would never admit it, but it warmed his heart to know that Missouri still considered him her family, after all these years.

After some pleasantries, they both hung up and Dean ran out to tell Cas the good news. They made plans for the Saturday morning… which ultimately was just  _ Dean  _ making the plans and Cas just humming along. By the time the clock struck 10 that morning, both Dean and Cas were on their way out the door to the university. Although he had a couple of hours before he needed to be in his office, he figured that since he was up already--he could do some marking. 

The office was the same as always, with a rattling heater and a funky smell. Dean sat at the desk and began marking the sophmore assignments while Cas in his usual spot, legs resting on the ledge. The morning trailed on like all mornings marking do, with Cas humming quietly and Dean muttering equations and comments under his breath as he scribbled on pages in red. However, a little after 11 he found himself looking up from his papers to see Cas staring at him, a small smile present on his face. Dean frowned, giving Cas a questioning gaze. 

“What?” He asked. 

However, Cas didn’t answer and just quickly turned his head away and close his eyes. Dean believed that if ghosts were able to blush, Cas 100% would be. 

They left hours later at 4pm, when Dean’s office hours for the day were over. They proceeded their usual route home with Cas still refusing to go the short way home. The bus came at it’s usual time, dropped them off at the usual time and they got home right on their regular schedule. 

It had been almost a completely normal day.

The second abnormality happened at dinner. Dean was preparing pasta for himself, chopping up the vegetables he put in his mince. As he was chopping up the green peppers, he remembered the occurrence earlier in the day. 

“Cas?” He questioned.

“Yes Dean?” Cas replied.

“Answer me truthfully… why were you staring at me earlier in my office?”

He can’t see Cas’ face because he’s too busy on cutting, but he knows that Cas is contemplating on what to answer. 

“I went to school during the 1940’s.” He said, causing Dean to pause his cutting. “I hated school because it was too formal. School in the ‘40s was a nightmare. Caning, constant writing, sitting at desks and expecting to never utter a word unless told to. It wasn’t an environment that worked for me so hence I did poorly. My only option at that point was to join the army because I had nothing else left for me.”

Dean turned to look at Cas, surprised. His friend had never been that in depth about his life. He’d only recently learnt he had a wife, let alone that he was alive during the 40’s. 

“I don’t understand… what does this have to do with today?” Dean asked.

Cas smiled. “Today I couldn’t help but admire you and the way you were able to complete those equations without even a piece of paper. I know I try to appear like I know a lot, especially compared to the freshmen you teach. But most of what I know was learnt from  _ you _ . I would never have been able to be a freshman in college back when I was alive, I didn’t have the intelligence for it. You see Dean… through my life and beyond I’ve known doctors, captains, scientists and lawyers. I went to a private school with the best of the best. Yet out of all of those people, you are still the smartest person I have ever known.”

Dean froze, his hand clenching around the handle of the knife. With his simple question, he neve expected this in depth of an answer and for Cas to say something so… so  _ heartfelt.  _ Cas was always very stoic and although Dean knew he cared, he wasn’t one to express affection. To have it happen right there, in his kitchen on some plain old ordinary night was hard for Dean to comprehend too quickly.

He gulped and looked over at Cas, who had his gaze averted. It was in that moment that he had never felt such a feeling of  _ longing  _ before. Sure, he’d been in love with Cas for a while now. Yet in this moment, he longed for him in an unbearable way than before. So much so tht he dropped the knife on the chopping board and moved closer to Cas. 

Cas looked up at him, his eyes wide and hesitant. Dean couldn’t touch Cas, he knew that he couldn’t. Yet he couldn’t help but reach around him and touch the vibrating energy that surrounded him. Dean saw this energy faintly around every spirit he saw, a small line that was curved around them. If he was psychic like Missouri, he believed that he’d be seeing their aura. This energy however, was connected to ghosts in a different way. They used this energy to manipulate frequencies, to materialise and dematerialise. This energy was like a wavelength attached to their body. Well, at least--that was Dean’s theory from observing Cas for all these years.

Yet, despite everything…. He’d never  _ touched  _ one of these energies. 

With hesitance, Dean carefully reached for the blurry line and grazed it with his hand. Cas gasped for a moment, the touch a new sensation that he hadn’t experience yet. However, it doesn’t seem to bother him. Dean saw Cas close his eyes, his lids fluttering as he did so. He tilted his head to the side, almost as if he were leaning in to the touch without actually leaning into it. Dean continued to slowly move this hand through the energy, almost as if he were gentlly caressing it. He realised this was as close as he got to touching Cas, to being  _ intimate  _ to him. And Cas was enjoyed it. He seemed content. 

The moment lasted for almost a minute until Cas seemingly snapped out of it. Dean watched as Cas went from a relaxed state to almost two feet away from him, eyes wide and frightened.

“Cas--” Dean started, almost not knowing what to say.  _ Sorry? Are you okay? What’s wrong? _

Yet before Dean could say anymore, Cas once again had disappeared.


	10. VIII-IX

**Vlll - lX  
** **_between eight and nine._ **

When ghosts disappear, they dematerialise into the veil and reappear somewhere else. At least, that is what Cas always told Dean. It’s their way of teleporting, moving from one place to another. So, Cas disappearing had only one obvious connotation. He’d gone into the veil.

Dinner was long forgotten for Dean, his half chopped vegetables remaining abandoned on the bench. Instead, he spent an hour in a petrified state, wandering around the neighbourhood, searching for Cas. When it began to go dark around 8pm, Dean felt like he had no choice but to return home. He’d been wandering for nearly two hours and there had been no sign of Cas anywhere.

He slammed the front door shut behind him and stormed to his room, shutting his bedroom door as well. He fell onto his bed with his arms crossed over his chest. With a grunt, he swallowed the surfacing tears down and closed his eyes, trying his best to sleep through the fear and worry.

His sleep sequenced the way it usually had recently, with the nightmares continuing. For hours he heard the cries of _Novak!_ And the sounds of guns blazing. He was grateful when he was pulled out of his sleep in the middle of the night, panting heavily from the continuous running he did in his sleep. However when he saw the figure at the end of his bed, he began to wonder whether he was better off staying asleep.

Dean leaned over to reach for something, _anything_ from his side table to whack at the intruder. He was interrupted however, by the light of his room turning on. 

Dean blinked and sat up.

“Cas?”

His friend sat at the end of his bed, head buried in his hands. Dean had never seen his friend look so distraught. 

“Cas, wh--”

His friend lifting his head up stopped him. He angled his body towards Dean and sighed.

“I’m sorry for disappearing like that. It’s a force of habit. I pulled myself out of the veil as soon as I could and found myself a few streets away. I just ended up walking around for a while.”

Dean watched as Cas ran his fingers through his hair, gripping tightly at the ends.

“I disappear when I get scared.” Cas explained. “And in that moment, I was petrified. When you _touched me_ like that, for a split second it felt _wrong._ All I could feel was fear and I just needed to get away from there. Once I began to wander though, I realised something.”

He paused to take a breath.

“I realised that you are no longer the Dean Winchester I once knew. You are no longer that little boy obsessed with toy story, or playing video games and laughing when I said curse words. You’re now a professor and an intelligent man. You are handsome, loyal, witty. You are my best friend. You are also, most importantly, someone that I truly love. And that scares me… it still does.”

The hairs stood up on Dean’s skin, goosebumps trailing down him. He wanted to laugh for a moment, thinking that this was all some practical joke. Cas was good at those, he could pull them off. However the longer he stared at Cas’ scared and wide eyes, the quicker he realised that Cas was serious. He was _serious._ Thoughts upon thoughts ran through Dean’s mind about what this all meant. It meant that those daydreams he had always dreamt up, the ones that spiralled out of control into endless impossible futures… weren’t so impossible after all. That all this time, the feelings he thought were never going to be reciprocated… were. 

Without even thinking, Dean leant over and touched Cas. It first started with his fingers slowly seeping into his energy just like he’d done earlier that night. He watched as Cas closed his eyes as if he were in a bliss and hummed a low, deep sound that rumbled from the back of his throat. Dean carefully reached in further feeling the energy as it pulsed around his hand. The more he reached in, the more Cas seemed to seize up as if he were in shock and pant softly.

At first, Dean had a hard time continuing to do it--worried that maybe he was hurting Cas. He slowly went to draw his hand away but Cas stopped him.

“Don’t.” Cas whispered. “Keep going.”

Although hesitant, he took Cas’ consent and gently continued to feel the energy. He saw his hand drawing closer and closer to Cas’ skin, or at least his translucent body. As he inched further, he worried that his hand would go into Cas--the way it does with any other ghost. He’d seen it happen to Cas multiple times and knew that it was something that made spirits entirely comfortable. Not that he blamed them, he couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have someone walk _through_ you.

Though Cas stared at him with wide eyes and nodded softly, urging him to continue. Dean had no idea why, but he decided to take Cas’ word for it. He moved his hand further and further in, feeling the convulsing as it spread up his arm until all of a sudden… it just stopped.

No longer did Dean feel a pressure of energy around his hand--instead, under his fingertips, he felt a cold but solid body. He had his eyes closed, scrunched type in fear that he was going to do something to hurt Cas. So, he was slow to open them and see what in the hell his hand was touching. As he saw where his hand was, a breath ot caught at the back of his throat. 

Cas’ shoulder fit tightly into the palm of his hand. Cas’ _shoulder_ was the solid, cold object he could feel. Cas looked down at where Dean’s hand was and he almost swore, the ghost had tears in his eyes.

“I… I feel that.” Cas murmured. “Dean, I feel you _touching_ me.”

Dean let out a small hiccup of a laugh, which Cas reciprocated. They then began to both laugh loudly, in disbelief at what was happening. They’d known each other for 26 years and finally, on _this day_ , they stumbled upon the realisation. 

Dean brought his other hand in to grip onto Cas’ other shoulder. He couldn’t believe he was touching him, that they were able to have actual physical contact. It wasn’t the same as touching another human, due to the temperature and the semi-permanence of it. He didn’t feel as solid as another person, more like jello. Yet, it was still something.

He shook Cas a little bit to make sure--his friend going along with it and continuing to laugh. Once he had solid empirical evidence, he squeezed Cas’ shoulders before pulling him into an embrace. He gripped Cas tightly in his arms, resting his head on his freezing cold shoulder. Although it was slightly uncomfortable, the moment was far too overwhelming and warm for Dean to care. Cas buried his head in the crook of Dean’s neck, holding him tight around the waist. 

“I was so scared I lost you, man.” Dean couldn’t help but mumble onto Cas’ neck. 

“You didn’t.” Cas replied in an almost inaudible hushed tone. “Don’t worry Dean, I’m not going anywhere.”


	11. IX

**IX  
** **nine.**

If you were to ask Dean, the next three days were the best few days of his life thus far. 

In Dean’s opinion, there was never a better feeling than to be validated. He still couldn’t believe that Cas reciprocated the feelings he had for him, that it wasn’t all in Dean’s head. 

However, there was one better feeling. And that’s what he had with Cas, hands down. They still hadn’t established what they were, how they would work, how the future would unfold. It was all up in the air for them, considering they had other issues to focus their attention on. However, after their mutual confession. All they cared about was just being with each other.

Dean spent the next few days in a bliss, as if he were in a daze. Everyone noticed: from his co workers to his students. Even Missouri noticed, although Dean didn’t think she really knew the entire situation of why. Almost every second of those days, Cas and Dean spent time together. From sitting in Dean’s office, to Cas watching Dean’s lectures and not to mention watching Netflix on the couch. 

Despite the looming situation, Dean never felt happier with Cas by his side. It was a constant reminder that despite everything, some things do work out.

On the Friday night before they left for Missouri’s, they found themselves on the living room couch together. They were reading books, studying up on everything they could about Mors. It felt strange to Dean, that tomorrow they were going to be summoning the God of Death. Mors was someone he didn’t even believe was real until recently; someone who had played a big part in his life from the day he was born. 

He read about Mors’ deeds, how he is the one that those who die see. Apparently he appears to them and guides them to the afterlife. Dean believed that was total bullshit but he decided he’d ask the current expert.

“Did you see Mors when you died?” He asked Cas. The spirit was currently laying on Dean, his back to Dean’s torso. He watched as Cas shook his head.

“No. My death was rather quick.”

Dean bit his lip. He wondered if he should continue asking questions or just leave it at that. On the one hand he was curious, yet on the other hand—he didn’t want to offend Cas.

For Dean, his curiosity won.

“Did… did it hurt when you died?”

Cas sighed and closed his book, but didn’t move from his spot.

“No, like I said it was quick. One second I was human, the next I was a spirit. Basically a flash of light hit and the world faded away. When I came to, the world was different. It was like I was looking through a new hazy perspective. I had new abilities, yet had lost old ones. I was a completely different species. I had to adapt. Not when five minutes after I turned corporal, I felt myself shift into veil and suddenly, I was back home here—in Lawrence.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You grew up here in Lawrence?”

Cas nodded with a laugh. “Yes Dean, how else do you think I found myself here?”

Dean blushed and not having that realisation sooner, but continued to ask questions.

“Was it hard, adapting?”

Cas sighed again. “It was. At first. I saw life move past me, people forget about me, a whole world change around me. I spent so many years in a loop, going from place to place with no one to talk to. Honestly, for many years I was depressed and I wanted to just pass on, go into the light or whatever. I just don’t know why I couldn’t. Still don’t, honestly.”

Dean took Cas’ words in, feeling a sharp pain in his gut at the thought of Cas feeling depressed, of Cas being alone.

“Eventually, I came to accept it though.” Cas finished.

He looked up at Dean and met his gaze.

“When did you accept it?” Dean asked Cas.

Cas just smiled. “When I met you, of course.”


	12. X

**X  
** **_ten._ **

“You ready?” Cas asked Dean. The two of them stood on Missouri’s doorstep, Dean with his hand raised to knock. 

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Not really but… it needs to be done.”

Cas nodded and stayed silent as Dean tapped his knuckles three times against the door. It took less than thirty seconds for it to open and for both Dean and Cas to be greeted by a smiling Missouri. Dean looked at her and although she looked to be attempting to remain calm and in a good mood—Dean could tell she was about as nervous as they were. 

“Hello boys. It’s good to see you again.” She greeted. Dean found that amusing, considering she couldn’t actually  _ see  _ Cas. 

“You too Missouri, thank you for doing this.” Dean said as she stepped aside to let them inside.

Missouri just continued to smile. “No need to thank me Dean. This… this place is far more important than just us. Whatever is happening is affecting the world at large. Of course I need to do my part to help it.”

She led them back into what Dean dubbed her “office”. Dean could see that she already had everything set up, ready for the summoning. It looked different from when they had just the seance. While the table had the candles and sigils, same as the last time--it also had a silver bowl with ingredients ready to be poured in. Dean had no idea what it all meant, but he wasn’t going to question it.

“Are you ready?” Missouri asked.

Dean laughed humourlessly. “As ready as we ever could be, I guess.”

Missouri nodded and gestured to the table. Dean sat down in the spot he did last time and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, clenching his fists as he did so. He watched Cas move towards the table, but was surprised when Cas didn’t sit down like last time. Instead, he moved so that he could stand behind Dean. He put his hands on Dean’s shoulder and despite the coolness of the touch--it brought a great sense of comfort to Dean. 

Missouri had just sat down when Dean noted the extra bed. It was on the floor acoss on the other side of the room, surrounded by a circle of red tape. 

“What’s that for?” He asked.

Missouri gave the bowl a quick glance.

“You’ll see.”

He then watched as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to recite the spell. The passage was in Latin and was something Dean was entirely unable to focus on. The only word he caught was  _ Mors,  _ which Missouri said every now and then. He watched as she threw the ingredients into the bowl in front of them. Dean noticed how some of the ingredients were simple, like herbs. Some on the other hand, were far more absurd. Dean swore she poured in  _ blood  _ at one point.

Finally, as she reached the end of her reciting, she lit the bowl with a match. Dean watched as the flame lit, expanding so high that it soared right above their heads. Dean was so entranced by the fire, that he didn’t notice the new person enter the room.

The flame died down at the first thing Dean noticed was Missouri’s startled expression. He turned to look in the direction of her stare, where he noted the stranger. The man was standing in the middle of the red circle, right next to the other silver bowl. The bowl was alight with a small flickering flame. The man appeared to be older, at least in his 40’s appearance wise. He wore a dark black coat and pants. His hair was slicked back on his head.

“So… you figured it out, did you?” 

They were all in a stunned silence for a moment, before Dean decided to be the brave one to break it.

“Mors.. I assume.”

The entity smiled. “You summoned me here. So… you assume correctly.”

“You just said that we figured it out. Figured out that you were the one taking these spirits? Taking them into the veil where it’s nearly  _ impossible  _ for them to move on. Why? Why in the hell, would you of all entities… do that?”

“You see… you haven’t figured it all out.” He spoke. “I don’t have a choice in the matter, this is not my doing.”

He turned to look at Cas.

“The spirits, like you yourself, are what I call my children. I let you lead your own path in the afterlife. I prefer to send those who belong in the veil there or those to the afterlife, if that’s where they are destined to go. Or, I leave some of them alone. Like you. Those who have unfinished business… or if that’s where they are destined to be.”

He gave Cas a lingering stare, before turning to look back at Dean.

“However, it seems that a relative of mine is wanting to start an army. He feels that the souls of the veil will make good soldiers.”

Dean and Missouri sat confused, while Cas picked up on what Mors was saying almost instantly.

“If you are talking about an army, I’m assuming you mean Pluto… God of War?”

Mors nodded. “You would be correct. He recently trapped me in a binding spell, meaning I am bound to do whatever he wants me to. He sends my assistant, Mercury, to collect spirits for the veil. Mercury and I have tried to break the binding far too many times--unfortunately, it’s too powerful. Even for my own bidding.”

Dean looked up at Cas, who was already staring down at him. They knew what they had to do.

They turned back to look at Mors, who had his mouth open as if he were going to say something. However, he seemed to be frozen there. They watched in confusion as his eyes began to flash with a bright white light, like the blinker on a car. Then all of a sudden, it stopped.

He looked back over at Dean, his expression mournful. 

“I am truly very sorry.” He said. “But my master has commanded me.”

Dean was still bemused and went to ask Mors what he meant. Yet, before he could do the flame at the table erupted again. In the split second he went to look at it, Mors had disappeared. When he noted the empty space, he sighed. He wanted to get more information out of Mors, more information that could lead to unbinding him--freeing him. 

He turned to look at Missouri after the flame disintegrated. He wanted to ask her if she knew anywhere or  _ anyone  _ they could turn to about unbinding a  _ God.  _ As he noted her appearance, he noted that she looked sad and frightened. She was staring back at Dean with the same expression he’d just seen on Mors.

“Dean--” She whispered sadly. Dean still had no idea what was going on, so he looked back at Cas to see if he had any clue.

That was when he realised his friend was no longer behind him… in fact, Dean couldn’t see him anywhere. 

Dean frantically looked around the room and yelled one pitiful cry of  _ “Cas!”  _

However, he had a feeling that Cas was no longer there. And when he glanced back at Missouri, his suspicions were confirmed.

He was gone.

They had taken Cas.


	13. XI

**XI  
** **_eleven._ **

Dean’s first plan for the weekend, apart from drinking, was calling in sick for work. 

_ “Stomach flu.”  _ He had told the head of his department.  _ “Really not feeling well. Not at all.” _

It wasn’t a lie, in a sense. Dean didn’t feel well. He felt as if any other person whose heart got ripped out of their chest would feel. He felt empty, in pain,  _ sad.  _ He felt alone for the first time in his whole life.

With the week off from office hours and lecturing, Dean had decided to bury himself into a hole. With alcohol as his shovel, he spent three consecutive days buried under blankets with a bottle in his arms. He didn’t cry, or mourn. He didn’t break things and curse the house down. He just laid in his bed, only moving to use the bathroom or fill his grumbling stomach with some sort of food. It was never healthy or sustainable. Dean didn’t have the energy.

It was finally on Wednesday that he received a call. He let his phone ring through twice before he answered it. He had taken to ignoring calls for the most part--but he couldn’t ignore the urgency of whoever was on the other line.

“Hello?” He groggily greeted as he had not bothered to check caller I.D.

“Dean Winchester, you answer your phone the first time I call you!” Missouri’s voice shouted through the phone, causing Dean to wince.

“Missouri… not so loud.”

“No, I will be as loud as I want. I don’t care that you’re hungover or whether you are going to continue to drink that bottle your holding. No. Enough is enough.”

Dean looked down at the bottle and sighed, placing it on the side table. Slowly, and agonisingly, he sat up. 

“I… I don’t know what you want from me Missouri.”

Missouri huffed. “What do I want from you? Well Dean Winchester--I want you to snap out of it. Cas isn’t de-- well, he isn’t  _ gone.  _ He’s in the veil, he’s trapped in there. He needs rescuing Dean.  _ You  _ and I need to rescue him. But I can’t do it alone.”

Dean swallowed. He had no idea how in the hell Missouri felt he could help her. He knew Cas was stuck and he wanted more than anything to get him out. Yet these were  _ Gods  _ they were going up against, they had a strength that was far beyond Dean’s comprehension. Yet, he doesn’t say any of this to Missouri.

“What do you need me to do?” He said instead.

He could practically  _ hear  _ Missouri smile. “That’s the Dean Winchester I know. I need you to look up an unbinding spell. It seems my resources are limited.”

“ _ Your  _ resources are limited? Where am  _ I  _ meant to find an unbinding spell?”

Missouri sighed. “How about that big library that you have access to? The one with the multitude of books on mythology? I’m sure in there, somewhere, there is a spell on how to unbind a God. You just need to look.”

With reluctance, Dean agreed to go look and hung up the phone. 

That afternoon he drove to the college for the first time in a while, wanting to be as quick as he could possibly could. He snuck into the library, doing his best to avoid students and/or co-workers. He went straight to the mythology section and grabbed as many books he could find on the Roman Gods. Upon checking them out, he raced downstairs and back to his car, speeding away before anyone could catch them.

He spent the next two days reading. While being deep in the books was a good distraction, the tedious nature of it also made him long for Cas. When they researched together, finding the information was a lot easier, a lot quicker. Plus, it wasn’t as boring and draining. Researching alone--it was a hard reminder that Cas was gone. 

By 8pm that Friday, Dean had almost given up. After two full days of the same, repetitive books--he’d had enough. He felt like no matter what he found, it wasn’t going to do anything to help Cas. He’d sent countless of spells and rituals to Missouri, via text and email. Each time, Missouri replied that it wasn’t a match, that it wouldn’t work. And every time it happened, the more frustrated Dean would become.

By 8:30pm, he began randomly flipping through the pages. He was bored out of his mind and the entire book seemed like utter garbage to him. That was until he came across an illustration that made him pause.

The title of the page read  _ Deus capti in vinclis  _ and the illustration showed what Dean would describe as a puppeteer. There was a sketch of a man with an evil face, dangling a puppet with his fingers. The puppet was almost lifeless, with the strings attached to every part of it’s body. While Dean had no idea what to make of it all, since it was in Latin. He had a feeling it meant something.

He quickly whipped out google translate and typed in the title of the story. He watched as it loaded before popping up with the words in English. 

_ God trapped in chains. _

Dean had a feeling that this was definitely promising. He grabbed the book and went into his home office, scanning the page to his computer. He quickly forwarded it to Missouri, all while sending her a text to let her know.

> **Dean** : I’ve emailed you something. Let me know whether it works.

He waited for a couple of minutes, staring at the screen of his phone impatiently. Five minutes later, Missouri replied.

> **Missouri** : Looks good but I need to research further. Give me some time.

Although stressed out and on the edge of his seat as he wondered whether this would  _ actually work-- _ He did as he was told. He put on the TV, putting on a random Marvel movie to pass the time. He avoided Netflix because of obvious reasons. By the time the movie began to enter it’s climatic period, his phone buzzed again. 

> **Missouri:** I think it will work. We’ll perform it tomorrow. Meet me at this address at 9am. Sharp.

Dean was confused to see that Missouri had listed an address in Topeka, quite far from her own home in St. Louis. However, he trusted her and knew that whatever the reason was she picked this address--it was a good one.

Knowing he had to get up early to drive, Dean flicked off the movie. He wondered whether maybe he would finish it tomorrow night, with Cas by his side. He tried to push that thought away, as there was a highly likely chance that it  _ wouldn’t  _ work. However, he couldn’t ignore the tingling sensation that went through his body at the thought of reuniting with Cas.

As he laid in bed, prepared for the nightmares ahead--he couldn’t help but wonder if Cas could hear him. Kevin has said that the spirits were around, just on a different plane. 

“Cas if you can hear me.” He whispered. “I’m so sorry. I… I miss you. And I am trying so goddamn hard to get you back.”

He took a deep breath, fighting away another wave of tears. He threw his blanket over him and rolled onto his side, attempting to sleep through the anxious and lonely thoughts of his mind. As he began to drift off, he felt the cool touch of a soft breeze. While many others would correlate it to a coincidence, to the fact that maybe his bedroom window was open, Dean knew what it meant. And with that in mind, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

~*~

He arrived in Topeka exactly five minutes before 9--which for him, was impressive. The address was a modern, suburban home in Central Topeka. As Dean pulled into the driveway, he couldn’t help but notice how lavish the house was. Knowing Missouri, it confused him. She was a big fan of the older styled homes, the ones that were at least 100 years old. This… this definitely didn’t seem like her style.

Missouri was waiting out in the front yard, a smile on her face as she saw Dean. He didn’t waste anytime hopping out of the car and walking over to her. After everything that happened, it was nice to know he had someone like her beside him.

“Dean, honey. I’m so glad you’re here.” She murmured. Immediately pulling him in for a hug. 

Dean sighed into her shoulder. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

They stepped back from each other and Missouri rubbed his arm soothingly. “If all goes well, we free Mors today. And once we do that, he can hopefully bring Cas back.”

Dean sent her back a shaky smile. “I hope so.”

She gestured for him to follow her into the house. They two of them walked inside the Topeka home and immediately, Dean noticed how much nicer it was inside. Glazed hardwood floors, cream walls and modern art everywhere. There were display cabinets in the entry, protected by security locks which displayed relics and items far beyond Dean’s pay grade. The house also shown a lot of natural light, making it seem more open and brighter. Dean was in awe by it.

He followed Missouri through to another room which lead to  _ another room.  _ Upon entering the next room, Missouri stood in front of a door which was locked by a keypad. Dean watched as Missouri typed in a code and pressed enter. The door swung open, revealing an entirely different room to the rest of the house. The room they had now entered was dark, rustic. Books upon books lined the shelves, along with chests carved with sigils. A chandelier hung from the roof, over the top of a white-linen covered table which four seats. Sitting at one of them, was a woman that Dean didn’t know. 

“Dean, I want you to meet someone.” Missouri said, gesturing Dean forward. The woman looked up from what she was reading, sending Dean a small smile. She looked to be older than Dean, yet younger than Missouri. Yet, Dean couldn’t deny that she was absolutely beautiul. She had dark, rich red hair that tousled down her shoulders in a fiery wave. She had light eyes that were brought to life through her use of colourful makeup. She had dark red lips and defined cheekbones. And to top it all off, she wore a sparkling, dazzling dress that made Dean blink a couple of times.

“Dean Winchester.” She spoke and immediately, Dean recognised her accent.  _ Scottish.  _ “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Dean, this is Rowena. Rowena MacLeod. She’s an old friend of mine who lives here in Topeka. She also happens to be a wiccan.”

“A Wiccan?” Dean asked in confusion. “Doesn’t that mean a--”

“Witch?” Rowena finished for him. She nodded. “Yes, precisely. However, witch is more an…  _ out of date  _ term. Nowadays, we like to go by Wiccan.”

She then held her hand out to Dean. He stepped forward and put his own hand in hers, shaking them. He watched as she smiled brightly.

“Now that pleasantries are out of the way, shall we get on with it?”

She pointed to the chair to her right for Dean to sit on, while Missouri sat down in front of him--to Rowena’s left.

“Now, what you found Dean was an old mythology… fable if you will. It was about a God who broke too many rules and ended up being trapped forever to live his life as a puppet… blah blah  _ blah.  _ However, it speaks about how he freed himself through a series of methods. While in fable form, these were what got me the spell. I tweaked it and I think it should work for an unbinding spell.”

Dean watched as she began to line up the ingredients.

“If.. if you’re performing the spell. What do Missouri and I do?”

Rowena glanced up at him, a smirk on her lips.

“Just watch the magic darling.”

Then, before he could say anything else, she began to perform the ritual. 

“Terra virtutes invoco.” She spoke reverently, pouring something into the bowl in front of her. “Terra virtutes invoco!”

“Nox virtutes invoco. Nox virtutes invoco. Sit nobis peccata damnant unum Deum.” She continued to say, pouring more and more ingredients as she did so. As she neared the end of her passage, Dean noted that the wind in the room began to pick up. 

“Una quae est propria ejus prodiderat. Nox terra, et quaerimus faciem tuam.”

The ground began to quake beneath their feet. Rowena appeared unfazed however and continued the ritual.

“Damnant Plutonem deo belli!” She exclaimed and the room shook all around them. Dean watched frightened as he heard something that sounded like a loud roar.

“Mors libero Deus de manu mortis!” She cried. The room began to splinter, particles of dust and wood falling down from the sky. Dean, worried about their own safety, began to get up.

“Maybe we should--”

“Dean! Don’t!” Missouri shouted, but it was too late. Another roar sounded and before Dean knew it, he was flying backwards. He felt himself collide with a bookcase behind him and a sharp pain on the back of his head. He slumped to the ground, already losing consciousness from the weight of the force.

“Dean!” Missouri yelled out again. Rowena, however, continued her chant. As Dean began to black out, he saw a fire light up in the room and Rowena shout.

_ “Producturus eum liberum!” _

~*~   
  


Dean awoke to the sound of talking.

However, it wasn’t soft or hushed tones. Immediately, he took note on the voice of an angry woman and a calm, but slightly annoyed man. He groggily opened his eyes to see what was happening in front of him. As he saw the sight, he closed them again as he was worried that he was hallucinating. 

“Ah, Dean!” Another female voice piped up. “Joined the land of the living again, have we?”

He opened his eyes again and instantly spotted Rowena beside him. She was sitting on one of the chairs, which had been pulled over from the table. She was looking at him with an amused expression. He groaned and sat up slowly, blinking to try and clear his vision. As he looked in front of him, he realised that his sight before hadn’t been mistaken.

Mors was standing in the room, just a few feet away from Dean. In front of him, Missouri sat on a chair--her face tense and almost furious. Dean’s movement had caught Mors’ eye and he turned and looked over at Dean with a small smile.

“Dean.” He greeted with a smile. “Now that you’re conscious, I have to thank you for your act of kindness in unbinding me from Pluto. I’ve already thanked your friends, however--I heard it was you, personally, who found the ritual.”

Dean nodded stiffly.

“Well for that, I have to express my gratitude.”

As Dean began to come to his senses, he remembered why they had freed Mors in the first place. He was quick to stand up, swaying a little as he attempted to regain balance. 

“You can express your gratitude by bringing Cas back to life.”

Mors didn’t do so much as blink. He’d barely processed Dean’s words before he replied.

“Unfortunately, it is not in my abilities to do that.”

Dean scoffed.  _ “Not in your abilities?  _ You’re the God of  _ Death. _ ”

“Exactly. I only work with those who are dead. I don’t have the ability to resurrect them.”

Dean felt an anger beneath his skin, but he chose to ignore it for plan B.

“Well then at least bring him back from the veil. It’s the  _ least  _ you can do.”

Mors sighed and turned to look at Missouri, who was glaring daggers at the God. “Your friend here already asked me to and I did. I  _ tried,  _ at least. There was an… interference, something preventing me from bringing him out.”

“Well try  _ harder. _ ” 

“If a spirit doesn’t want to be retrieved from the veil, then I won’t disobey their wishes.” Mors replied. “Maybe he doesn’t want to be brought back. Maybe he is happy where he is.”

“You’re fucking  _ lying _ .” Dean spat. “There is  _ no way. _ ”

Mors just looked at Dean with a mournful expression, the same one he’d given him the day he took Cas.

“Thank you again Dean. And really, I am truly sorry.”

And all Dean could do was watch as Mors vanished right before their eyes. 

Dean stood still for a moment, attempting to process what Mors had said. He began to process the situation, what was happening. They had been successful in unbinding Mors, but it didn’t lead to the solution they wanted. Cas was still trapped, on another plane and there was nothing Dean could do about it.

“Dean.” Missouri whispered. “Dean, we’ll find a--”

“Missouri! It’s  _ over. _ ” Dean growled, causing his friend to stop talking. “It’s done. Cas is gone. In fact, he’ll probably be gone forever. If the fucking God of  _ Death  _ could bring back--then we’re fucked.”

Missouri opened her mouth to say something more, but Dean ignored her. He looked over at Rowena who was watching the whole scene and gave her a swift nod. A sort of, thank you for at least trying. Then with one swift movement, he stormed out of the room and out the house. As he got into his car and backed out into the open road, he realised that he was never going to see his friend again.


	14. XII

**XII**  
_twelve._  


****

The next week, Dean returned to teaching and was in his foulest mood to date. 

His students and co-workers were highly confused. One week, Dean was undeniably happy. Two weeks later, he looked like he wanted nothing more than to boil himself alive. Dean knew he was snappish, knew he was confronting. He knew that everyone was walking on eggshells around him. He knew all this--he simply just didn’t care.

His best friend, the love of his life, the person who had been by his side for eternity; was gone. Cas was gone and no matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried… nothing was going to bring him back. He’d lost his best friend forever.

And Dean had truly realised the finite nature of death.

By Wednesday, Dean had already had enough of the week. He wanted to go and drown himself in whiskey, his new alcohol of choice. Except, he needed to earn money. He needed to keep going. Except Dean’s idea of  _ “keep going”  _ was to go through the motions during the day and drink until he fell asleep at night. It wasn’t a healthy lifestyle, but it was his coping mechanism.

As he left Wednesday evening to go home, the clouds in the sky began to pour and soon, rain was everywhere Dean looked. He’d been taking the usual route home, via the museum. This time however, he saw the heaviness of the rain and decided to go the other way to escape.

_ Fuck it.  _ He thought bitterly.  _ Cas isn’t here. _

Half way through the journey to the bus stop, the rain stopped--just as Dean was passing the war memorials. It was almost as if it were fate or some sort of destiny that put Dean in that spot. As the rain stopped and the memorials came into view, he felt this tugging sensation in his lower gut. Something was drawing him towards the monuments.

With the rain clearing and no motivation to do anything else, Dean decided to have a look.

The first immediate one he spotted was the one for the Vietnam War. He remembered the stories his dad told about the Vietnam war, the horror stories of what he saw and how they fought. He knew many of his dad’s colleagues died in the war. His dad had been really young at the time. 

He began to read through all the names, doing something to pass the time. There were a lot of them, from A all the way to Z. Dean read through every one of them, as a respect for those who’d fallen.

When he got to N, all was going well until his eyes stumbled upon a familiar name.  _ Novak.  _ Dean froze at the name, his nightmare immediately flashing to the forefront of his mind. He remembered the shouting, the screams, the explosions. He remembered the wasteland, the war ground of violence and catastrophe. He remembered it all. He had a feeling this person with the last name  _ Novak,  _ had something to do with it.

It was only when he read the first name that the pieces began to click together.

_ Castiel J. Novak. _

Castiel… as in  _ Cas.  _

As the rain began to pour again and Dean started to sprint home, a whirlwind of thoughts were going through his mind.

He may have began to figure out the mystery that was his friend. The mystery that Cas had kept up for the past 26 years.

~*~

When Dean arrived home, the first thing he did was pull open his laptop. Hopping onto google, he immediately searched up the name  _ Castiel J. Novak  _ and awaited results. The first few results were simple ones, results for  _ Linkedin _ and  _ Facebook _ . However, when he clicked to the secong page of results--he saw something with the word  _ Lawrence  _ in it.

He realised that it was old articles from the Lawrence Daily News that had been archived on their official website. The article in question was from 1969 and discussed the death of a local soldier and the sadness the town felt over the loss of their friend. As Dean read on he realised it was about Castiel Novak and about how enemy forces had triggered a grenade in their tent area, killing him and seven others instantly.

As Dean scrolled down further, an image popped up in the article. And there, smiling at the camera, was the one and only Cas. 

Dean had only begun to quietly gloat to himself about the fact that he was  _ right,  _ when he noticed something about the photo. Cas was standing with his wife, the one he had told Dean about a couple of weeks prior. However, that wasn’t the unusual part. What made the lightbulb in Dean’s head go off was the fact that they were standing outside a familiar house. The familiar house that Dean was currently residing in. 

He realised that Cas had lived here once before and that’s why he had stayed here all those years. It was also how, in the end, he met Dean.

Dean thought back to his childhood, trying to think of things Cas said that may have made sense now. Things Cas tried to be mysterious about that Dean now finally solved. There were so many memories, so many instances where Dean felt as if Cas were hiding something from him. The truth had now finally been revealed--as if it had all been laid out onto a table. 

As Dean relived childhood memories, he remembered a time of talking to his mom. He was only eight at the time and had attempted to sneak into the basement during a game of hide and seek with some of his friends. 

“Don’t!” His mother had said as soon as she spotted Dean. “Honey, you know the rules. You’re not allowed to go into the basement.”

“But why?” He had whined. He had just received a glare from his mother as she sent him away. Later that night, he had been complaining to Cas about the unfairness of the situation.

“I don’t know why I’m not allowed to go.” He said.

Cas just shrugged. “Your mom has a good reason Dean. Basements are full of secrets. Secrets you really don’t want to know.”

As Dean replayed the words in his mind, he realised that not even  _ Cas  _ had wanted him in the basement. That observation alone led him to only one conclusion. 

He turned on his phone flashlight and headed down the stairs, over to the door nearby which led to beneath the house. Using his phone as a guide, he opened the door and carefully walked down the stairs into the dark, dusty mess of a room. The basement was just like any old basement in America--dark, dingy and gross. Dean had never once been there since he’d owned the house and he didn’t think his parents had been in there for years, either. He began to look through boxes, trying to find something that linked to Cas. For the most part, he only found old stuff of his parents and the droppings of the rats in the walls. 

After some time, he turned back towards the stairs which is where he caught sight of a box under them. Again, as if destiny was pulling him, he felt himself gravitate towards it. He noted that the box had no name on it, it was just closed brown box. Dean had no idea what it held inside of it and at first, it concerned him. Who knows what is hiding in an unmarked box in a basement?

Yet he pushed his fear to the side and opened it. There, piled into this box under the stairs, was remnants of the life Cas once lived. Photographs laid on top of the box--pictures of Cas in his uniform, with his wife, with two people who Dean assumed to be his parents. Deeper inside, the cap of his uniform was tucked into the side, next to a frame full of his medallions. Journals and books of Cas’ were shoved and piled into the box as well. Yet, it was the dog-tags that stood out to Dean the most.

He lifted them out of the box, watching as they dangled of the silver chain. He wrapped the chain around his hands and brought it to his lips, holding them there knowing that they were one of the only things of Cas he had left. He pulled them away so that he could look at them clearly and trace his finger over the engravings. As he stared at them, he realised that Cas fought to his very final moment. He realised that the dog tags symbolised Cas’ service and the fact that he fought in a war and risked his life. Dean realised that he was currently giving up on Cas, giving up on the man that died due to his inability to ‘throw in the towel.’

With a new found determination, Dean put the dog tags over his neck and stood up from the floor. He had an idea. He knew what he needed to do.

He raced back upstairs and over to the pile of mythology books he had. He remembered seeing a whole section on Mercury, who Mors had dubbed his  _ assistant.  _ He also remembered in that section, seeing a particular passage on how to summon in. 

The spell was simple enough. The ingredients weren’t much, just some herbs and a bit of blood. The incantation was only a couple of lines, which Dean could do. He grabbed the materials and one of his cooking bowls, bringing them into the living room. He placed the book down beside him and began the ritual.

He spoke it loudly, pouring the herbs into the bowl. As he got nearer to the end of the passage, he cut a bit of his arm with one of his knives and let it drip into the bowl. He placed a bandage on it and said the last line, looking around the room as he did. At first, nothing happened. Then, a figure appeared right in front of him.

“Yes?” The stranger asked in a bored tone. Dean looked up to a blonde man, looking down at Dean with an impassive expression. He didn’t seem too thrilled to be there.

“You’re Mercury right?” 

“Yes.”

“The same Mercury that works for Mors?”

“I don’t work  _ for-- _ ” He began before cutting himself off. “Never mind… yes.”

“Look, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. But I need you to tell me all you know about resurrection spells.”

Mercury scoffed. “Look kid, you’re in way over your head with this stuff. Resurrection spells  _ don’t exist.  _ If they did, almost everyone would be back from the dead by now.”

Dean just narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying to me. There is a spell somewhere out there and I know it. You’re the God of travellers, the messenger of the Gods. I’m sure you, out of all people, would know at least  _ something. _ ”

“These spells aren’t something to joke about, Dean Winchester.” Mercury said. “Dealing with necromancy is a serious matter.”

“You just mentioned spells.” Dean replied triumphantly. “See, there is something!”

Mercury glared. 

“Look, I know this is serious. But I’m begging you here. I… I need a spell. I need to bring him back if it’s the last thing I do.”

Mercury was quiet for a moment, as if he were weighing up his options. Finally, after a while, he sighed.

“The spell your looking for is almost impossible. While the spell itself isn’t the most difficult to find, it’s the  _ group  _ of people. That group is almost impossible to bring together. It’s why Mors usually attempts to keep these people away from each other--for the soul reason that they don’t perform this spell.”

He took a breath.

“In your case, I don’t think it will be so hard.”


	15. Epilogus

**Epilogus _  
_** **_epilogue_.**

  
  


_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _

Despite it being 6am in the morning on a Sunday, Dean had no time to be quiet and polite. After his meeting with Mercury, he knew what he had to do and who it involved. With no luck in sleeping, he had driven to Topeka and straight to the door of Rowena. After a couple of rounds of knocking, she finally answered the door with a furious gaze aimed in Dean’s direction. Her curly red hair strayed all over her head in various directions and her face was bare from the lack of make up, revealing freckles and birthmarks that had hid beneath the powder.

“Dean Winchester.” She snapped. “Do you know what time it is? Do you know what time it is on a  _ Sunday. _ ”

“Yes, it may be a surprise -- but I have been able to tell time since I was seven.” He replied, causing her to glower an even darker gaze. 

“Look, I know it’s early.” Dean backtracked. “But I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t urgent.”

After some hesitation, Rowena invited him inside where he proceeded to explain the previous night’s visit. However upon the mention of a ‘spell she may have that can raise the dead’, she cut him off.

“No, no, absolutely not.” She said, standing up and beginning to pace. “I’ve had enough of this whole spirit world issue. I’ve had enough of dealing with those Roman Gods--especially after that Pluto-Mors debacle. No, I’m sorry but I cannot help you.”

Yet, instead of feeling defeated -- Dean just smirked.

“Mercury had a feeling you might say that.” He said. “So he was kind enough to provide a peace offering.”

It was then as if Rowena had only just noticed the duffle bag that Dean had lugged inside. He knelt down and unzipped it, pulling out a large item and gripping it in his hand. Rowena’s eyes lit up immediately.

“Mercury’s caduceus.” She spoke with reverence, staring at the glimmering gold rod. 

Dean shrugged. “One of them, apparently he has a few.”

She reached forward to touch it but Dean stepped back, pulling it away.

“The caduceus will be all yours, only if you find the spell and help perform it. I’m not risking giving you something as valuable as this without what I want in return.”

Rowena pursed her lips. “How do  _ I  _ know that you won’t just keep the caduceus after the ritual is performed?”

“A powerful witch on my ass? No thanks.” He said with a chuckle. “Also, the caduceus means nothing to me. However Cas? Cas means  _ everything. _ ”

Rowena was silent for a moment, almost as if she was contemplating her choices. After a few minutes, she sighed.

“Fine, we have a deal you big sap. I’ll find the spell and help perform the ritual. However, once the ritual is complete--Mercury’s treasure is all mine. You hear me?.”

“Deal.” Dean stated, holding his hand out for Rowena to shake. With a small smile, she put her hand in his and shook their hands firmly.

“Deal.”

~*~

Mercury had told Dean that the ritual was to be performed by four special people. Four people with different abilities but altogether would be needed for the ritual. He had listed four people to Dean-- the enchanter, the one with the eye, an adventurer and the one that can see life after. It took Dean some time to decode three of them: the enchanter being Rowena (a witch), the one with the eye being Missouri (a psychic) and the one that can see life after being himself, a man who can see ghosts. The adventurer he left up to Rowena, as he had no idea who or what that was. 

Much to his surprise, Rowena seemed to pull through. It was 5pm in the evening when she showed up on his doorstep in Kansas, trailed behind by Missouri and a girl in her mid to late teens. 

“Dean!” Missouri greeted him, pulling him for a hug. “I told you that we’d find a way. That  _ you  _ would find a way.”

He smiled shakily. “Don’t get cocky yet. There’s a big possibility it won’t work.”

Missouri just smiled as if she knew something that Dean didn’t. She walked through the door, the young girl trailing after her. 

“Let me introduce you two.” She said as soon as the door closed. “Dean this is Kaia, a friend of Patience’s, my granddaughter. Kaia this is Dean.”

Kaia smiled in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you… you can see ghosts… right?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah… uh my whole life. And you… you’re an adventurer? W-What does that mean?”

Kaia laughed quietly. “The term nowadays is ‘dreamwalker’. I can see into other planes, other dimensions.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Impressive.”

“Thanks.”

They were interrupted by Rowena clearing her throat.

“Okay, now that introductions are over. Let’s get on with it, shall we? First things first -- Dean in order for this to work, we need an object of Cas’ and some of his DNA. Would you happen to have these items?”

Dean thought for a moment until he remembered the presence of the chain around his neck. He carefully pulled the dog tags off and placed them into Rowena’s open hand. 

“That’s an object of his… from when he was alive. I don’t know if I have any DNA however…”

He continued to contemplate, struggling to think of where there would be DNA of Castiel’s. He was in the soil in Vietnam, his uniform was freshly dry cleaned with no sign of a hair, blood or fingernails. All his old furniture and things had been moved out prior to his parents moving in. Dean felt at a loss.

While they set up for the ritual, Dean wandered downstairs to the basement. He pulled Cas’ box out from under the stairs and rummaged through it. He dug through the photos and medallions, trying to find anything that could be counted as DNA. It was at the bottom of the box that he hit the jackpot, a baby book of Cas’.

He opened it up and flicked through a few pages, stopping when he saw a small package and the caption:  _ Cas’ first haircut.  _ Dean looked at the small strands of hair in the plastic pouch and grinned. He tore it out of the book and raced back upstairs and into his backyard. 

He saw that the three of them had already prepared the backyard for the ritual. Four of his deck chairs were arranged in a neat circle, with the usual bowl used for these rituals sat at the centre. Kaia lit candles around the circle while Missouri held onto Cas’ dog tags, silently muttering to herself. Rowena placed the materials for the ritual by the bowl, which appeared to be some sort of bone, blood and herbs. As she looked up from doing so, she spotted Dean and raised an eyebrow. He held up the bag of baby hair, causing her to smile.

“Perfect. I think we’re ready to go.”

They all moved to sit at a spot in the circle, Rowena sitting right in front of the bowl so that she could perform the spell. 

“Now Dean,” Rowena began. “Kaia and Missouri know what they need to do. All I need you to do is recite this passage for me.” 

She passed him a piece of paper, where a large passage of Latin was printed neatly.

“I… I don’t know how to pronounce Latin.” 

Rowena just rolled her eyes. 

“You know how to read, don’t you? Just sound it out and form the words. Honestly boy, a  _ 2nd grader  _ could do it.” 

He waited on his signal to begin as Rowena poured the first of the materials into the bowl. After the last portion of it fell into the bowl, the wiccan nodded at him.

“Ad spirituum voco ego,” Dean said. “oco super mortuo me videtis mi Castiel iterum. Ego vocare te venerunt ad me plus semel iterumque ad tarda reuerti. Volo videre te quaerant et desideratissimi fiat semper.”

He took a breath and began the next passage, all three of the others joining in.

“Vivere rursus vagentur liberi. Vivere rursus vagentur liberi.”

Rowena placed the bone in and hair in, before nodding to Dean again.

“Ad spirituum voco ego voco super mortuo me videtis mi Castiel iterum. Ego vocare te venerunt ad me plus semel iterumque ad tarda reuerti. Rasa in qua vivunt, et purificati postea castra intrabitis aliquando plus.”

Dean watched as Rowena poured the blood as they all chanted again.

“Vivere rursus vagentur liberi. Vivere rursus vagentur liberi. Vivere rursus vagentur liberi. Vivere rursus vagentur liberi. Vivere rursus vagentur liberi. Vivere rursus vagentur liberi!”

Rowena lit the bowl again and as the flame formed, Kaia’s eyes began white. Although worried at first, Dean then realised that she was ‘dreamwalking’ and that she had officially entered the veil. 

“Kaia, what do you see?” Missouri asked. 

“There’s… there’s a lot of ghosts here. I… I can’t tell which one is him. They’re all trying to talk to me, all trying to get me to take them.” She whispered, fear laced in her tone. 

Immediately, an idea popped into Dean’s head. “Ask them what my favourite band is?”

Kaia frowned. “What?”

“Ask the spirits what Dean Winchester’s favourite band is?”

Kaia repeated his words out loud and to the spirits she could currently see. It was quiet at first as she listened but all of a sudden, she let out a giggle. 

“What?” Dean asked, impatiently leaning forward in his seat. 

She grinned. “One of them replied:  _ If you’re friends with Dean, you’d know. If I have to hear. “Led Zeppelin is the greatest band in history” one more time, I swear I’m going to figure out how a ghost can die. Again.” _

Dean couldn’t help but laugh, smiling to prevent the tears that were building up.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

Without hesitance, Kaia reached forward and seemed to clutch something in her hands. As she did so, a roaring flame shot up from the bowl causing all of them to fall back onto the ground. It lingered for only a split second before disintegrating, leaving them all on the floor and staring at the aftermath. 

Dean immediately stood up once he recognised it was safe to do so. He looked around the yard in every direction, trying to spot his friend. However, he couldn’t see him. 

_ “Cas!”  _ He shouted, wondering if maybe he was somewhere out of view. Yet, his voice just fell into the dead of the night. He waited a few minutes, hoping that somehow he’d just appear before them. That a bright light would pop out randomly and there Cas would be. Yet eventually, Dean decided to accept reality. The harsh reality that it didn’t work. 

Cas was still gone. And this time, Dean knew he was never coming back.

Dean spent a few minutes in his backyard, just feeling completely numb. He said his goodbyes to Rowena, Kaia and Missouri. He thanked them for all their hard work, even though the spell didn’t work. They had tried and it meant a lot to Dean. They left his house in a hurry, giving him the time to mourn. He spent that entire time on the deck chair, a full ten minutes of not moving as he realised that the amount of shit he’d gone through and that he’d put others through--it never in the end, brought back Cas.

It was only after ten minutes of sitting completely still, that Dean eventually broke down and began to cry.

~*~

Dean pulled himself into his bed not long after. It had begun to rain, which was usually a good sign to head inside. Plus, he needed a safe place to cry and grieve. It was only a little after 6pm and Dean was in no mood to sleep, yet his bed felt like the place he needed to be. The place he needed to be for at least the next month.

It was only five minutes after being in bed however, that the doorbell rang.

Dean suspected it was either one of the three from earlier. The thought that maybe one of them had forgotten something. So, with a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed and walked down the stairs to the front door. He pulled it open quickly, wanting to get this over and done with so that he could crawl back into bed. However, the person at the door made Dean’s blood run cold.

Cas was stood at the door, drenched head to toe and shivering. 

Dean blinked for a moment, his brain at first unable to compute that Cas was actually here. And basing on the fact that he was  _ wet _ , Cas was actually  _ alive _ . Dean’s brain could barely function and he needed more time to actually comprehend the site before him. Yet Cas’ shivering couldn’t wait, so he instantly ushered him in. 

Dean made Cas sit on the couch while he went and grabbed some blankets and towels from the closet. He lathered him in the towels to soak up the water, before layering him in blankets to warm him up.

“Cas.” Dean finally spoke, staring at the person in front of him as if he were a hallucination. “Wh… why are you wet?”

Cas chuckled shakily. “I… I woke up in water. In… in a lake. I… I walked here. Ten… ten minutes. I… I found you.”

Dean remembered what Missouri had said to him once when he was a child. He had asked her about the veil and she explained that it was a place where some ghosts lived. She said that many people believe it can be accessed through a body of water, such as a lake or pond as that’s where the line between the Earth plane and the veil was the thinnest.

Dean couldn’t help but also notice that Cas was slightly delirious, fading in and out of lucidity. Dean knew that he needed to get Cas out of those clothes and that now was probably the best time to do it. He told Cas that he would be right back and raced upstairs to his bedroom, pulling out some clothes for his friend. When he got downstairs, he slowly worked the not-so-lucid human out of his wet clothes and put him some dry, warmer ones. Dean watched as Cas’ eyes began to droop, yet he was still shivering like a leaf. So he did the only thing he felt he could. He wrapped Cas up in the blankets and brought him to his chest, cradling his arms around him to help him feel warm.

“I… I found you Dean.” Cas continued to say. “I found you.”

Dean smiled softly, blinking back another round of tears. “Yeah Cas... yeah you did.”

~*~

The next few days passed by quickly, with Dean spending his entire time taking care of Cas. His friend was not lucid, still recovering from the effects of hypothermia. Yet, he was pulling through… slowly. While Cas still didn’t really recognise what was going on, where he was, who  _ Dean  _ was. Dean was still happier than he had been in a long time. Cas was sick,  _ because  _ he was human. Cas wasn’t lucid, but he was  _ alive. _

The first proper conversation he had with Cas, was almost a week later. It was late in the evening and Dean was cooking soup for both himself and Cas. As he was stirring, he heard Cas call for him from the living room. Dean immediately stopped what he was doing and rushed into the next room, where Cas was sitting up with his hand on his chest. 

“Shit!” Dean cried out. “Cas, are you alright… what’s wrong? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Cas just shook his head.

“No… no Dean I… I have a heartbeat.”

Dean instantly relaxed and chuckled to himself. “Geez Cas, you had me worried there.”

Cas pat the spot next to him on the couch. “Come on, I want you to feel it.”

Dean smiled and did as he was told, walking forward so that he could sit beside Cas. Cas took his hand, bringing it to his chest and over where his heart was. It took Dean a moment, but soon he could feel the gentle  _ Thump! Thump! Thump!  _ Of Cas’ heart. 

“It’s crazy… my body… it was blown to pieces in Vietnam… I was killed in action. Daphne… my parents… they didn’t have a body to mourn.” Cas spoke. He was still quite sick and couldn’t form complete sentences well due to his lack of breath. “The only reason I wound up back in Lawrence was I’m assuming because of all my memorabilia. I… I don’t understand how I can be alive… what happened…”

“What do you remember?” Dean asked.

“I… I remember everything… everything from when I was dead. I just… I can’t remember past Missouri’s… I can’t remember past seeing Mors.”

Dean sighed. “Well, a lot. And I mean…  _ a lot  _ has happened since then.”

Cas sat quietly as Dean proceeded to explain what had happened since the summoning of Mors. When Dean finished the re-telling, Cas was not amused.

“Dean… that’s… that’s dangerous. If that spell… ends up in anybody… else's hands… we’re… we’re screwed.”

Dean shook his head. “Once I knew you were alive, I phoned Rowena. She told me she burnt the spell in the fire, as to not risk it being passed into the wrong hands. I mean… we also thought it was a dud so…”

Cas continued to appear worried, looking at Dean with a frown on his face.

“But… how is this going to work Dean? I… I mean I can’t work… I have no I.D…. I can’t help… contribute.”

“Hey,” Dean murmured. He took his hand off Cas’ chest so that he could bring it to his face. He gently stroked Cas’ cheek.

“It’s going to work out in the end. You know why? Because I am so goddamn sure that I was meant to meet you. I know for a fact that it happened for a reason. Why else would I be born with this stupid ass gift? I’m not going to lose you Cas and you are not going to lose me. I just fought so damn hard to get you back, you’re not going anywhere.”

Cas didn’t say anything in reply, just leant forward and rested his head against Dean’s shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the moment until Cas’ stomach rumbling broke it. Dean got up and finished preparing the soup, bringing it back to the couch and carefully placing it on Cas’ lap. As they sat side by side, Dean turned on the television and selected Netflix. Immediately, the next episode of Queer Eye popped up and Cas turned to look at Dean excitedly.

Halfway into the episode and once their soups were demolished, Cas mumbled something under his breath.

“What?” Dean asked.

Cas just shrugged. “I said I don’t think Jonathan is that bad.”

With that, Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

Deep down, he knew that they were going to have struggles. He knew Cas was going to have to adapt to human life again, that Dean was going to have to adapt to sharing a house with another human again. They were going to have to adapt to life where they were together. 

Yet despite how most people would be, Dean wasn’t worried. They had time. Plenty of it. 

While Cas was no longer an immortal spirit and both of them had an eventual expiration date on their heads, a date when they would  _ both  _ cross to the afterlife… it didn’t seem to limit them at all.

Because they had each other. And now that they were together, time was infinite. 


End file.
